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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #63892 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63892)
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fourth Down!, by Ralph Henry Barbour
-
-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
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this ebook.
-
-Title: Fourth Down!
-
-Author: Ralph Henry Barbour
-
-Release Date: December 05, 2020 [EBook #63892]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-Produced by: Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
- at https://www.pgdp.net
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOURTH DOWN! ***
-
-
-
-
- FOURTH DOWN
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: IN THE VERY CENTER OF IT, PLUNGING, FIGHTING, WAS HEMING]
-
-
-
-
- FOURTH DOWN!
-
-
- BY
- RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
-
- AUTHOR OF “THE PLAY THAT WON,”
- “THE LOST DIRIGIBLE,” ETC.
-
-
- [Illustration]
-
-
- D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
- NEW YORK LONDON
- 1920
-
-
-
-
- COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY
- D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
-
-
- PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS
-
-
- CHAPTER PAGE
- I. BACK TO SCHOOL 1
- II. NEW QUARTERS 15
- III. SID OFFERS ADVICE 25
- IV. G. W. TUBB 37
- V. WITH THE SECOND 46
- VI. SIGNALS 57
- VII. TOBY MAKES A CALL 67
- VIII. TUBB TRIES FOOTBALL 79
- IX. YARDLEY PLAYS GREENBURG 94
- X. TOBY EMPTIES HIS LOCKER 105
- XI. TOM FANNING, OPTIMIST 117
- XII. FIRST TEAM VS. SECOND 136
- XIII. TEAM-MATES FALL OUT 146
- XIV. TOBY AT QUARTER 156
- XV. THE “TOUGH BUNCH” 169
- XVI. TUBB WINS PROMOTION 189
- XVII. AN “ACCIDENT” 201
- XVIII. A QUARTER-BACK RUN 218
- XIX. ARNOLD HAS A THOUGHT 231
- XX. AN ENCOUNTER ON THE BEACH 241
- XXI. TUBB BARKS A KNUCKLE 255
- XXII. A VISIT TO THE OFFICE 269
- XXIII. TUBB ON THE TRAIL 283
- XXIV. FRICK IS CALLED AWAY 294
- XXV. FOURTH DOWN 305
-
-
-
-
-FOURTH DOWN
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I
-
-BACK TO SCHOOL
-
-
-“We ought to be there in about twenty minutes,” observed Arnold
-Deering, glancing at his watch.
-
-One of his companions in the day-coach tossed the magazine he had been
-idly glancing through, to the top of the pile of suitcases beside him,
-yawned widely, and nodded without enthusiasm.
-
-“If nothing happens,” he agreed.
-
-“What’s going to happen, you chump?”
-
-“Nothing, I suppose. Only, something might. There might be an
-earthquake, or the train might jump the track, or――――”
-
-“Or you might talk sense, Frank! As for jumping the track, this old
-train couldn’t jump a crack in the floor! I guess you’re wishing
-something would happen so you wouldn’t have to go back.”
-
-“Oh, I don’t know,” Frank Lamson answered doubtfully. “I guess I don’t
-mind――much. School’s all right after a day or two. It’s getting into
-the swing, just at first, that’s hard.”
-
-“In the interest of education,” proclaimed Arnold pompously, “I move
-that summer vacations be abolished.”
-
-“Put it the other way around,” said Frank, “and I’ll second the motion.
-Joking aside, though, summer vacations are fine, but they certainly
-spoil a chap for hard work.” He shook his head dolefully. He was a
-heavily-built youth of seventeen, but the heaviness was that of bone
-and sinew rather than of fat. With regular features, dark hair and eyes
-and a healthy skin, he was undeniably good-looking, although the mouth
-somehow suggested a sort of lazy arrogance and led an observer to the
-conclusion that he was not invariably as amiable as at present. He was
-almost painfully correct as to attire.
-
-“Work!” sighed Arnold. “Why introduce unpleasant subjects? Ever since
-I struck Yardley fellows have dinned it into me that this year is the
-toughest of all. ‘If you think Third Class is hard,’ they said, ‘just
-wait till you’re in Second!’ It doesn’t sound good to me, Frank!”
-
-“Piffle! Fellows always talk that way. Even First Class fellows shake
-their heads and tell you they’re the hardest worked bunch in school,
-and any one with a grain of sense knows that the last year’s a perfect
-cinch. Anyway, you don’t need to worry. You’re starting clean. I’ve got
-a condition to work off, worse luck. I’m the one who ought to be sore.”
-
-“Too bad,” said Arnold sympathetically. “Still, ‘Old Tige’s’ bark is
-worse than his bite, Frank. You’ll get clear all right.”
-
-“Hope so.” Frank leaned across the piled-up luggage to look through the
-window. A fleeting glimpse of the sun-flecked surface of Long Island
-Sound met his vision, and he frowned, mentally contrasting the lazy,
-frolic-filled days of the passing summer with the duties drawing nearer
-every minute. “Light House Point,” he said, nodding. “Greenburg in ten
-minutes.”
-
-“If nothing happens,” quoted Arnold, with a smile. Like the boy
-opposite him, he was seventeen years of age, and, like him, too, he
-was extremely well-dressed. But in Arnold Deering’s case the attire
-appeared to stop short of effort, or it may have been that he was less
-conscious of it. While it is fair to call Frank good-looking it is no
-exaggeration to say that Arnold was handsome. A straight nose under
-a broad forehead, deep brown eyes, a mouth showing good-temper, and a
-round chin, all went to make up a countenance extremely attractive.
-He wore his dark brown hair brushed straight back, a style that went
-well both with his face and with his height and slenderness. There
-was nothing effeminate about him, though. He was not what fellows
-contemptuously call a “pretty boy” and his slim frame was well-muscled
-and suggested the best of physical condition.
-
-“Don’t think I’d mind if something did happen,” answered Frank, rather
-disconsolately, “so long as it put off the evil day.”
-
-“Cheer up, old thing!” laughed Arnold. “To-morrow you’ll be as gay as a
-lark, won’t he, Toby?”
-
-The third member of the party, who, next the window, had been occupied
-with a magazine for the last half-hour, turned a pair of very blue eyes
-toward the speaker and smiled. Although he had been following the story
-closely, the conversation of his companions had not been entirely lost
-to him, and Arnold’s question had reached him between the last word on
-page 19 and the continuation on an elusive page 134. “I’d never expect
-to see Frank as gay as a lark,” he replied readily. “If you had said
-as happy as a seagull, though――――” He returned to the search for page
-134.
-
-“Seagull?” protested Arnold. “The silly things never _are_ happy!
-They’re always crying and making a fuss.”
-
-“Oh, they’re happy enough,” said the other, with a twinkle in his eyes,
-“but they don’t want to think so!”
-
-Arnold laughed and Frank said, “You go to the dickens, Toby,” but
-grinned a little as he said it. There had been a time when he would
-have taken Toby Tucker’s jest not so amiably, but closer intimacy with
-that youth had rendered his dignity less tender.
-
-“Toby’s got you sized up, Frank,” laughed Arnold. “You do like to
-grouch a bit, you know.”
-
-“We all do, at times,” said Toby, comfortingly. He found the page he
-was seeking and settled back again. But Arnold plucked the magazine
-from his hands and tossed it to the opposite seat.
-
-“We’re nearly in Greenburg, T. Tucker,” he said. “Sit up like a
-gentleman and talk to us.”
-
-Toby looked reproachfully at his friend and regretfully at the
-magazine. Then he smiled. He had rather a remarkable smile, had Toby.
-It made you forget that his nose was too short, his chin almost
-aggressively square, his tanned face too liberally freckled, his hair
-undeniably red. It made him almost good-looking and eminently likable.
-Tobias Tucker’s smile was a valuable asset to him, although he didn’t
-know it.
-
-“What shall I talk about?” he asked. “Want me to tell you a dreadfully
-funny story?”
-
-“What’s it about?” demanded Arnold, suspiciously.
-
-“About old Cap’n Gaines,” replied Toby, innocently. “He――――”
-
-“_Help!_” cried the others with unflattering unanimity.
-
-“If you ever try to tell that again, Toby,” added Arnold, very stern
-and very solemn, “we’ll――――”
-
-But what was to happen in such an event was never told, for what
-happened at that moment very effectually ended Arnold’s discourse.
-There was a terrific grinding of brakes, a loud hissing sound, and an
-irresistible tendency on the part of every one and everything in the
-day-coach to proceed hurriedly to the front door. Because of various
-obstructions none succeeded, but all did their best. Arnold landed in
-Frank’s lap and Toby draped himself over the piled-up luggage, his
-head hanging over the back of the seat ahead. A cloud of unsuspected
-dust filled the car as, with a series of emphatic and uncomfortable
-jerks, the train came to a standstill. To the accompaniment of a vocal
-confusion of cries, exclamations, and grunts, the occupants of the car
-disentangled themselves from each other or picked themselves from the
-floor.
-
-“Get――off――me!” groaned Frank. “You’ve――broken――my neck!”
-
-“What was it?” gasped Arnold, relieving the other of his unwelcome
-embrace. “Are we wrecked?”
-
-“I am, anyway!” growled Frank. “Where’s my hat? Oh, thanks!” He
-accepted it from a dazed occupant of the seat ahead. Toby Tucker
-retired from his graceful position atop the suitcases and observed
-Arnold questioningly, his straw hat tilted down to the bridge of his
-nose. Arnold chuckled. “Guess it was Frank’s earthquake,” he said.
-
-“Keep your places!” admonished a trainman, putting his head in the
-forward door. “Obstruction on the track! No danger!”
-
-“Gee!” muttered Toby. “That was some stop, fellows!”
-
-“It sure was!” agreed Frank emphatically, feeling doubtfully of his
-neck. “It nearly snapped my head off! And then Arn landed on me like a
-ton of bricks.”
-
-“Let’s go see,” said Toby. “What’s this?” He raised a foot from which
-dangled Arnold’s hat. “I’m sorry. Sort of mussed, I’m afraid.”
-
-Arnold took it, viewed it ruefully and put it on. “It’s all Frank’s
-fault,” he grumbled as he joined the exodus through the nearer door.
-“He insisted that something was going to happen, and it did!”
-
-How near that something had come to being a catastrophe was revealed
-to them when they pushed their way through the throng at the head of
-the train. Not eighty feet distant from the pilot of the throbbing
-locomotive stood a lone box-car, its forward truck lodged against its
-rear. It was loaded and sealed and marked “Greenburg.” A curve in the
-track behind had hidden it from the fireman’s sight until there had
-remained just space in which to avert a collision.
-
-“How do you suppose it got here?” asked Frank.
-
-“Front truck got loose and the car broke its coupling, so they say,”
-volunteered a boy beside him.
-
-“Hello, Billy,” greeted Frank. “You on the train? I didn’t see you. I
-suppose this will hold us up awhile, eh?”
-
-“I thought they always had a caboose on the tail-end of a freight,”
-objected Arnold.
-
-“I believe they do,” agreed Billy Temple, “but this car and some more
-were on a siding about a mile back and they were sort of switching ’em
-into the Greenburg yard. Hello, Tucker. What car were you fellows in?”
-
-“Fourth, I guess,” answered Arnold. “If it hadn’t been for Frank,
-though, I’d have landed in the first when we stopped! Felt as if my
-spine was being pushed right through to the front of me!”
-
-“Me too,” chuckled Temple. “There was an old codger in my car with
-a basket of eggs. He got on at that last stop we made. There wasn’t
-much room, so he kept the eggs in his lap. Then Mr. Engineer put the
-airbrakes on and――Bingo!”
-
-“What happened?” demanded Arnold delightedly.
-
-“Why, the old gentleman and the eggs went on top of a fat man in front.
-Talk about your omelets! Oh, boy!”
-
-“Let’s go back and sit down,” suggested Toby when Temple’s narrative
-had been properly appreciated. “It’s too hot out here. And I suppose we
-won’t get started again for an hour.”
-
-“More like two,” grumbled Frank. “They’ll have to send a wrecking
-train and lift that car out of the way. Rotten luck!”
-
-“Hark to the plaintive wail of the seagull,” murmured Toby.
-
-“That’s right, Frank,” Arnold chuckled. “Ten minutes ago you wanted
-something to happen to keep you from getting to Yardley, and now――――”
-
-“That’s all right,” answered Frank haughtily, “but it’s nearly four,
-and supper’s at six.”
-
-“True, O Solomon! I get your viewpoint. There is much in what you say.
-Still, if we get moving again in an hour or so――――”
-
-“We might walk, if it wasn’t for the bags,” mused Toby. “It can’t be
-more than eight or nine miles.”
-
-“Eight or nine miles!” moaned Arnold. “And on an empty stomach!”
-
-“We-ell, I meant on the railroad,” said Toby demurely, “but if you
-prefer――――”
-
-“Wish we had a pack of cards,” said Frank gloomily as they returned
-to their car. “We might have a three-handed game of something. Or get
-Billy Temple in here.”
-
-“I’m going to finish that story I was reading,” said Toby. “You two
-play.”
-
-“Well, if we can find some cards,” began Arnold, leading the way to
-their seats. Then: “What’s the matter with the chap over there, Toby?
-Nose-bleed?” he asked.
-
-Toby, following his friend’s gaze, saw a pale-faced, large-eyed boy of
-perhaps fifteen holding a crimson-stained handkerchief to his face.
-“Guess so,” said Toby. “Maybe he got bumped. Wonder if he knows how to
-stop it?”
-
-“Do you?” Arnold asked, pushing by to his seat.
-
-“Yes, I know four or five ways. Guess I’ll ask him.”
-
-He left the others and walked back three seats to where the boy was
-hunched somewhat disconsolately beside an open window. He was a
-surprisingly unattractive chap, Toby thought, but maybe he couldn’t
-help that unwholesome white complexion. But he could help, Toby told
-himself a moment later, that very soiled collar he was wearing!
-
-“Nose-bleed?” asked Toby smilingly.
-
-The boy shook his head, looking up over the stained handkerchief with
-an expression of sullen suspicion in his staring brown eyes.
-
-“What’s the trouble then?” Toby took the vacant seat. “Let me have a
-look, won’t you?”
-
-After a second of hesitation the boy removed the handkerchief,
-revealing a short but deep cut on his upper lip. It was bleeding
-profusely. Toby clucked sympathetically. “How’d you get it?” he asked.
-
-“I was getting a drink back there,” muttered the boy, “when the train
-stopped. It threw me against the arm of a seat, I guess. Anyway, first
-thing I knew I was on the floor.” His tone was resentful and his look
-seemed to hold Toby to blame for the accident.
-
-“Too bad,” said the latter kindly. “Got another handkerchief with you?”
-The boy shook his head. “I’ll lend you one, then. I’ll get it and wash
-the cut well. You step back to the water tank.”
-
-Toby returned to his seat and dragged his suitcase from the pile.
-“Fellow’s got a nasty cut on his lip,” he explained. “Fell down when
-the train slowed up and hit on something.”
-
-“What are you going to do?” inquired Frank. “Operate on him?”
-
-“Find a handkerchief for him.”
-
-“Who is he? One of our chaps?” asked Arnold.
-
-“I don’t know. He may be. Doesn’t look it. Get your enormous feet out
-of the way. I’ll be back in a sec.”
-
-“If you want any one to administer the ether――――” suggested Frank.
-
-Toby laughed and joined his patient by the rear door. There he gave
-the wound a thorough washing, while the boy scowled and grunted. Then,
-seeing that the sides of the cut ought to be brought together, he left
-the other with a folded handkerchief pressed to the wound and made
-his way forward to the baggage car. When he returned he had a roll of
-surgeon’s tape and a wad of absorbent cotton. The boy protested in
-his sullen way against further repairs, but Toby overruled him. “You
-don’t want a nasty scar there,” he said cheerfully. “You hold this
-cotton there until I get the tape ready. That’s it. All right now. Hold
-steady, now. I’m not hurting you. There! Now we’ll roll this cotton in
-the handkerchief and you can stop the blood with it. I don’t think it
-will bleed much longer. Have you got far to go?”
-
-“Wissining,” muttered the boy.
-
-“Oh, do you live in Wissining?”
-
-“No, I’m going to school there,” answered the other resentfully. “I
-thought maybe you were, too.”
-
-“Why, yes, I am. You must be a new boy then.”
-
-The other nodded. “I’ve never seen the rotten place,” he said.
-
-“Really?” asked Toby rather coldly. “Well, I hope you’ll like it better
-than you think.”
-
-The boy stared back in his sullen fashion. “Shan’t,” he muttered. Toby
-shrugged.
-
-“That’s up to you, I guess.” He nodded curtly and moved away, feeling
-relieved at the parting. But the boy stopped his steps.
-
-“Say, what’ll I do with this handkerchief?” he asked.
-
-“Oh, throw it away, please,” said Toby.
-
-If he had done so this story might have been different.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II
-
-NEW QUARTERS
-
-
-At eight o’clock that evening, having reached Wissining only a little
-more than an hour late and done full justice to supper, Toby and
-Arnold were busily unpacking and setting things to rights in Number 12
-Whitson, which, as those who know Yardley Hall School will remember, is
-the granite dormitory building facing southward, flanked on the west by
-the equally venerable Oxford Hall and on the east by the more modern
-Clarke. There were those who liked the old-time atmosphere of Whitson;
-its wooden stairways, its low ceilings, its deep window embrasures and
-wide seats; who even forgave many a lack of convenience for the sake
-of the somewhat dingy home-likeness. Perhaps, too, they liked to feel
-themselves heirs to the legends and associations that clustered about
-the building. On the other hand, there were scoffers dwelling more
-luxuriously in Clarke or Dudley or Merle who declared that the true
-reason for Whitson’s popularity was that the dining hall, known at
-Yardley as Commons, occupied the lower floor and that fellows living in
-the building consequently enjoyed an advantage over those dwelling in
-the other dormitories.
-
-Not all the Whitson rooms were desirable, however. On the third floor,
-for instance, was one that Toby, when he looked about the comparative
-grandeur of Number 12, remembered without regrets. He had passed last
-year under its sloping roof in an atmosphere of benzine and cooking.
-The benzine odor was due to the fact that he had conducted a fairly
-remunerative business in cleaning and pressing clothes, the smell of
-cooking to the fact that the room’s one window was directly above the
-basement kitchen. This year the atmosphere promised to be sweeter, for
-Number 12 was on the front of the building, away from the kitchen, and
-Toby had retired from business.
-
-There were moments when he viewed his retirement with alarm, for,
-although his father had assured him that sufficient money would be
-forthcoming to meet expenses if Toby managed carefully, he couldn’t
-quite forget that, should anything interrupt the prosperity of the
-boat-building business at home, there would be nothing to fall back
-on. But Arnold had made the abandoning of the cleaning and pressing
-industry a condition of his invitation to a share of Number 12.
-“Homer’s not coming back, Toby,” he had announced in August. (Homer
-Wilkins had been Arnold’s roommate the preceding year.) “I wish you’d
-come down to Number 12 with me. It won’t cost you much more than that
-cell up in Poverty Row; and that’s an awful dive, anyway. Of course,
-you can’t go on with that beastly, smelly clothes-cleaning stunt, but
-you weren’t going to anyway, were you? I mean, since your father’s
-business has picked up so this spring and summer you won’t have to, eh?”
-
-Frankly, Toby had fully intended to. Being even partly self-supporting
-gives one a feeling of independence that one hates to lose. But Toby
-said nothing of that. He thought it over and, because he was very fond
-of Arnold, as Arnold was of him, and because Number 22 had been pretty
-bad at times, he yielded. This evening he was very glad that he had,
-as, pausing with a crumpled pair of trousers in his hand midway between
-his battered trunk and his closet, he viewed again the quiet comfort
-of the big square room. Wilkins had removed a few things, but they
-were not missed, and Arnold’s folks were sending down another chair
-and a small bookcase from New York for Toby’s use. A fellow ought,
-he reflected, to be very happy in such a place; and he felt renewed
-gratitude to Arnold for choosing him to share its comforts. Arnold
-might easily have picked one of several fellows as a roommate without
-surprising Toby: Frank, for instance. Arnold had known Frank longer
-than he had known Toby. Reflecting in such fashion, Toby remained
-immovable so long that Arnold, who had for the moment abandoned more
-important business to put together a new loose-leaf notebook under the
-mellow glow of the droplight on the big table, looked across curiously.
-
-“What’s your difficulty, T. Tucker?” he asked. “Gone to sleep on your
-feet? Reaction, I suppose, after the near-trainwreck!”
-
-“I was just thinking,” answered Toby slowly, “that this is an awfully
-jolly room and that it was mighty good of you to let me come in with
-you.”
-
-“Well, the room’s all right. (How in the dickens does this thing
-catch?) I like it a heap better than those mission-furnished rooms
-in Clarke. Of course, next year I suppose I’ll try for Dudley, with
-the rest of the First Class fellows, although I don’t know about
-that, either. Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll stick here. It’s getting a
-whole lot like home, Toby. But as for its being good for me to have
-you with me here, why, that’s sort of funny, T. Tucker. Guess you’re
-not the only one that’s――er――that’s benefited, what? Rather like it
-myself, if you must know. Homer and I got on pretty well, all things
-considered, but that was mainly because he’s too lazy to quarrel with
-you about anything. Personally, Toby, I like a row now and then. It
-sort of――clears the atmosphere, so to speak. That’s why I thought of
-you. You’ve got such a perfectly beastly disposition and such a rotten
-temper that I can have a scrap whenever I feel the need of it. So, you
-see, it was pure selfishness, after all, old thing.”
-
-Toby smiled and went over to the closet with his burden. “We started
-with a scrap, anyway,” he said. “Remember it, Arn?”
-
-“Perfectly. I intimated that your hair was sort of reddish and you
-didn’t like it. So you came at me like a cyclone and we both went into
-the harbor. I remember it perfectly. It started because you wanted
-twenty-four cents a gallon for some gasoline.”
-
-“Twenty-two. You said you paid only twenty in New York.”
-
-“Anyway, I offered you less than you asked, and you said you’d pump it
-out of the tank again, and――――”
-
-“Good thing I didn’t have to try it,” laughed Toby. “That was only a
-little over a year ago, Arn! Why, it seems years!”
-
-“Much has happened since then, T. Tucker,” replied Arnold, tossing the
-notebook on the table. “Events have transpired. In the short space
-of――let me see; this is September――in the short space of fifteen months
-you were rescued from a living-death in the Johnstown High School and
-became a person of prominence at Yardley Hall!”
-
-“Prominent as a cleaner and presser of clothes,” laughed Toby.
-
-“Nay, nay, prominent as one swell hockey player, Toby, and also, if
-I mistake not, as a rescuer of drowning youths. Don’t forget you’re
-a hero, old thing. By the way, I wonder if young Lingard’s back. For
-your sake, I hope he isn’t. His gratitude to you for saving him from a
-watery death was a bit embarrassing to you, I thought!”
-
-Toby smiled ruefully. “You didn’t _think_, you _knew_,” he said grimly.
-Arnold laughed.
-
-“To see you slinking around a corner to evade the kid was killing,
-Toby! And he is such a little rotter, too! While you were rescuing,
-why didn’t you pull out something a little more select?”
-
-“Oh, Tommy isn’t a bad sort really,” responded Toby earnestly. “He――he
-just didn’t get the right sort of bringing-up, I suppose.”
-
-“Maybe. Personally, I always feel like taking him over my knee and
-wearing out a shingle on him! Well, this won’t get our things unpacked.
-Let’s knock off after a bit and see who’s back. Funny none of the gang
-has been in. Wonder if Fan’s back. And Ted Halliday.”
-
-“I saw Fanning at supper,” said Toby.
-
-“We’ll run over to Dudley after awhile and look him up. You like him,
-don’t you, Toby?”
-
-“Fanning? Yes, but I don’t really know him as well as some of the other
-fellows. He’s football captain this year, isn’t he?”
-
-“Yes.” Arnold nodded and then frowned. “Sometimes I wish we’d elected
-some one else: Ted, maybe, or Jim Rose.”
-
-“Why? I thought you liked Fanning a lot. And he was the whole thing
-last year in the Broadwood game, wasn’t he?”
-
-“I do like him. He’s a mighty fine chap. And he’s a whale of a player.
-Only, what sort of a captain will he make? He’s too easy, to my way
-of thinking. He’s likely to fall for a lot of fellows who can’t
-play much just because they’re friends of his. I don’t mean that he
-will intentionally show favoritism, but he’s too plaguy loyal to his
-friends, Toby. To tell the truth, I’m half inclined to stay out of
-it this fall――No, that isn’t so, either. What I do mean is that I’m
-scared that Fan may keep me on even if I don’t really make good. And
-I’d hate that worse than poison. I want to make the team, but I don’t
-want fellows to wink and laugh and look wise about me. You know the
-sort of stuff: ‘Oh, Deering, ye-es, he’s all right. But it’s lucky for
-him Fanning’s a friend of his!’ That sort of guff. Of course, this new
-coach, Lyle, may be a chap with a mind of his own and not stand for any
-of the friend-of-my-youth stuff. I hope so. I’d feel better anyway. By
-the way, you haven’t changed your mind, Toby?”
-
-“About football? No.”
-
-“I wish you would. Why don’t you?”
-
-“Lots of reasons,” answered Toby smilingly. “In the first place, I
-tried it last fall. In the sec――――”
-
-“You call that trying? You just went out with a whole mob of fellows
-and loafed around until they got tired of walking on you. Besides, you
-were out for the Second. The First’s a different proposition, son,
-especially now that you’ve made good in hockey. Every one knows that
-you’ll be hockey captain next year.”
-
-“It’s more than I know,” said Toby good-naturedly. “Anyhow――――”
-
-“And you’re at least fifteen pounds heavier than a year ago. They said
-you were too light, didn’t they?”
-
-“They meant in the head,” replied the other gravely.
-
-“They were dead right, too! But, honest, old thing, joking aside――――”
-
-“Arn, I haven’t got time for football and I can’t afford it.”
-
-“That’s what you said about hockey last winter. And you were so pressed
-for time that you copped a Ripley Scholarship! As for ‘affording’ it,
-where’s the expense come in?”
-
-“Togs and things,” answered Toby. “And traveling expenses. Arn, if
-I went in for football and made the team――which I couldn’t do in a
-million years――I’d have to go back to sponging coats and pressing
-trousers, and that would make the room awfully smelly, and you wouldn’t
-like it a bit.” And Toby ended with a laugh.
-
-“Piffle! All right, have your own stubborn way. You’ll miss a whole lot
-of fun, though.”
-
-“And a whole lot of bruises! Anyway, Arn, one football hero is enough
-in a family. I’ll stay at home and cut surgeon’s plaster for you and
-keep your crutches handy and hear your alibis.”
-
-“Idiot,” said Arnold. “Come on, dump that truck on the chair and let’s
-go over to Dudley. I want to hear some sensible conversation for a
-change.”
-
-“You don’t mean you’re going to keep quiet all evening, do you?” asked
-Toby with concern.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III
-
-SID OFFERS ADVICE
-
-
-The school year began the next morning. Many new faces confronted
-Toby in the recitation rooms and some familiar ones were missing.
-Toby’s list of friends had not been a long one last year, although
-acquaintances had been many. It had been his first year at Yardley
-Hall, which fact, coupled with a fairly retiring disposition, had left
-him rather on the outside. It is always a handicap to enter school
-in a class below your friends, which is what Toby had done. Arnold
-and Frank, both a year older, had been in the Third, while Toby had
-gone into the Fourth. Consequently the fellows he had met through
-Arnold――Frank had not counted greatly as a friend last year――had few
-interests that were Toby’s. To be sure, in early spring, after he had
-made a success of hockey, things had been somewhat different. But even
-then he had remained a pretty insignificant person among the three
-hundred and odd that made up the student body of Yardley Hall School.
-Not that Toby cared or thought much about it. He was too busy getting
-through the year without calling on his father for further financial
-assistance to pay much attention to the gentle art of acquiring friends.
-
-One friend, however, Toby had had, whether or no. That was Tommy
-Lingard, a Preparatory Class youngster, pink-cheeked, blue-eyed, shy
-and, in appearance, the soul of innocence. That he wasn’t as spotless
-as he looked has nothing to do with this story. Toby had saved Tommy
-from drowning, and thereafter the younger boy had attached himself to
-his benefactor like a shadow. It had been very embarrassing at times,
-for saving a person’s life does not necessarily imply that you want to
-spend the rest of your life in that person’s company! Toby didn’t like
-Tommy, for which there was a reason, but he couldn’t be brutal to him,
-and short of being brutal there had seemed no way of evading Tommy’s
-doglike devotion and his unwelcome companionship. It had become a joke
-to Arnold and a few others, but Toby found it far from that. When June
-had brought the end of the school year Toby couldn’t have told you
-whether he was more delighted at finishing an Honor Man in his class
-or at getting rid of Tommy Lingard!
-
-He had returned this fall with a grim determination to be rid of the
-boy at any cost short of murder, but to-day, glancing uneasily about
-as he passed from one recitation to another, he was not so sure of
-himself. Probably, he reflected discouragedly, when Tommy appeared and
-got those big blue eyes on him he wouldn’t find it in his heart to
-be unkind to the youngster, and the whole wretched, tiresome program
-would begin all over again. Therefore when, hurrying from his last
-morning recitation at twelve, he almost bumped into Tommy on the steps
-of Oxford, he was at once amazed and relieved when that youth said,
-“Hello, Toby,” in a most embarrassed voice and sidled past. At the
-foot of the steps Toby stopped and looked back. Could that be Tommy?
-Of course it was, but it was a very different Tommy. He had shot up
-during the summer like a weed. His clothes looked too small for him,
-too short of leg and sleeve. He was thinner of body and face, the
-pink-and-white complexion had muddied, the blue eyes were no longer
-luminous with truth and innocence and the voice had dropped several
-notes to a ridiculous bass! In short, Tommy had changed very suddenly
-from a blue-eyed cherub to a commonplace and awkward boy. And Toby was
-very, very glad, so glad that he went the rest of the way to Whitson
-whistling at the top of his voice; or should I say at the top of his
-whistle?
-
-“Just shows,” he reflected as he skipped up the stairs, “that it
-doesn’t pay to worry about anything that may happen, because maybe it
-won’t!”
-
-After a two o’clock séance with “Old Tige,” by which name Mr. Gaddis,
-English instructor, was popularly known, Toby went with Arnold down
-to the athletic field. September had still a week to run and the
-afternoon was almost uncomfortably hot. Across the river, the wide
-expanse of salt marsh was still green in places, and overhead the sky
-was unflecked by clouds. Fortunately a little westerly breeze mitigated
-the heat. Most of the tennis courts were occupied, a group of baseball
-enthusiasts were congregated over by the batting net and on the blue
-surface of the curving stream a few bright-hued canoes were moving
-slowly upstream or down. Toby found himself almost wishing that he had
-chosen a dip in the Sound instead of an hour or more of unexciting
-observation of some fourscore overheated youths going through football
-practice. However, the new grandstand, finished during the summer,
-was roofed, and as soon as Arnold left him to his own devices Toby
-meant to climb up there into the shade and sprawl in comfort. On the
-way they passed new boys here and there――it was easy to detect them if
-only by their too evident desire to seem quite at home――and they agreed
-gravely, pessimistically that they were a rum looking lot, and wondered
-what the school was coming to! Old friends and acquaintances hailed
-them from a distance or stopped to chat. Arnold was rather a popular
-fellow and knew a bewildering multitude of his schoolmates.
-
-“Seems mighty nice to be back again,” Arnold observed after one such
-meeting. “Bet you we’re going to have a dandy time this year, T.
-Tucker.”
-
-“Maybe you will,” answered the other dubiously, “but I don’t expect to
-unless they drop Latin from the curriclumum――curric――well, whatever you
-call it.”
-
-“Call it the course, old thing,” laughed Arnold. “It’s easier on the
-tongue. But I thought you finished strong with Latin last year.”
-
-“I did pretty well in spring term, but it looks tougher this fall. And
-I’ve got Collins this year, and every one says he’s a heap stricter
-than Townsend.”
-
-“Well, he is, I suppose, but he’s a mighty good teacher. You get ahead
-faster with Collins, I think. Anyway, it won’t look so bad when you’ve
-got into it, Toby. Besides, I dare say I can help you a bit now and
-then.”
-
-“You,” jeered Toby with a very, very hollow laugh. “You’ll be so
-full of football for the next two months you won’t know I’m alive!
-A nice outlook for me, I don’t think! When I’m not bathing you with
-arsenic――or is it arnica?――or strapping your broken fragments together
-I’ll have to listen to you yapping about how it was you missed a
-tackle, or got your signals mixed. Arn, as a companion you’ll be just
-about as much use as a――a――――”
-
-“Don’t overtax that giant intellect of yours, old thing. It’s too hot.
-Wonder where the crowd is. You don’t suppose those fellows are all that
-are going to report?”
-
-“It’s not three yet. Probably the rest of them preferred to stay
-sensibly in the shade while they had the chance. Wish I had! Arn, is
-that what’s-his-name over there?”
-
-“No, that’s thingumbob. Whom do you mean?”
-
-“The little man in the blue sweater-coat talking to Fanning. See him?”
-
-“Yes. I guess it must be. Isn’t very big, is he? Fan said last night,
-though, that he talked a heap of sense. I’m going over. Come along and
-meet him.”
-
-“No, thanks. I’ll wait here.”
-
-Arnold left him by the corner of the old grandstand and made his way
-toward where the new coach was in conversation with Captain Fanning.
-Toby saw Fanning introduce Arnold to Mr. Lyle and saw the two shake
-hands. Then something broad and heavy smote him disconcertingly between
-his shoulders and he swung around to find Sid Creel’s grinning,
-moon-like countenance before him.
-
-“Hello, Toby!” greeted Sid, reaching for his hand. “I had a beastly
-fright. Just when I was lamming you I thought maybe it wasn’t you after
-all. You’ve sort of thickened up since last year. Rather embarrassing
-to find you’ve whacked a total stranger on the back, eh? Much obliged
-to you for being you, Toby. I’ll never forget it. What sort of a summer
-did you have? You’re looking hard as nails and more beautiful than
-ever!”
-
-“Same to you, Sid. Are you going out for football?” Toby glanced at the
-other’s togs.
-
-“No,” replied Sid gravely. “I’m going to tea at the Doctor’s.”
-
-“Well,” laughed Toby, “that was sort of a fool question, but I didn’t
-know you were a football shark.”
-
-“I’m not; I’m just a minnow. I’m trying for the Second. I always do.
-I’ve been trying for the Second Team for years and years. If I’m not
-here they postpone until next day. I should think you’d go in for the
-game, Toby. Ever tried it?”
-
-“A little. I was out for the Second last fall, but I didn’t stay long.”
-
-“That so? I don’t remember seeing you.”
-
-“Funny, Sid; there were only about eighty of us the first day!”
-
-“Well, I didn’t know you then, Toby. Why don’t you try again? Didn’t
-you like it?”
-
-“I don’t know. Guess I didn’t have time to find out whether I did or
-didn’t. They said I was too light and fired me after three or four
-days.”
-
-“Well, you certainly have enough weight now. Come on and join the
-goats. It’s lots of fun. You get action, son, and it lets you out of
-gymnasium work while you’re at it. That’s something! Come on!”
-
-Toby smiled and shook his head. “Guess not, thanks. I never would make
-a football player.”
-
-“You? You’re just the kind, Toby. You’re quick and you’ve got a good
-head, and you’re built right, too. Wish I had your build. Only thing
-I’m good for is center or, maybe, guard. I’m too bulky. It isn’t all
-fat, though, believe thou me. Feel them here biceps, son, if you doubt
-my word.”
-
-“I kind of envied you your fat――I mean your muscular bulk, Sid――last
-winter,” answered Toby. “You could fall flat on the ice without hurting
-yourself. You just kind of bounced up and down a few times and didn’t
-mind it. When I fell I felt it!”
-
-“Never mind about me bouncing,” said Sid good-naturedly, with a grin.
-“I got around the ice a heap faster than some of the chaps at that. But
-about football, Toby――――”
-
-“I haven’t got time for it, Sid; that’s another thing. I’ve got to put
-my nose to the grindstone, I guess, this year.”
-
-“Well, haven’t I? Rather! But football won’t cut in on studying――much.
-Anyway, a fellow studies better for being out-of-doors and getting
-plenty of exercise and――――”
-
-“Yes, but I can be outdoors without playing football, Sid.”
-
-“Gee, you’re the original little Excuse-Me! Well so be it. After all,
-some one’s got to stay out of it and be audience, and from the looks
-of things right now, Toby, you’re the only fellow left to sit in the
-grandstand and cheer us on to victory. Look at the gang coming down!
-There’s a fellow I want to see. So long! Better change your mind,
-though!”
-
-Arnold came back for a minute and then left in answer to the plaintive
-squawking of a horn from farther along the side of the field. Fully
-eighty youths of assorted ages and sizes gathered about the new coach
-and the hubbub was stilled as the small man in the blue knitted jacket
-began to speak. Toby could hear an occasional word, but not enough
-to make sense, and, since it was no concern of his, he turned toward
-the grandstand and climbed up into the grateful shade. Forty or fifty
-others had already scattered themselves about the seats in couples or
-groups, most of them munching peanuts or popcorn bars, ready to be
-amused if amusement required no exertion on their parts. A lazy way to
-spend a perfectly good afternoon, reflected Toby. He wished he hadn’t
-let Arnold persuade him to come, but, being here, he lacked energy for
-the hot uphill walk back to the dormitory. He would stay awhile, he
-told himself; at least until the afternoon had cooled a little.
-
-There was a salvo of polite handclapping from the group within sound
-of the coach’s voice and it broke up. Andy Ryan, the trainer, emptied
-a canvas bag of trickling footballs and they were pounced on and borne
-away to various parts of the field. The big group became half a dozen
-smaller ones. It was only “kindergarten stuff” to-day, even for the
-veterans; passing and falling and starting; not very interesting from
-the viewpoint of candidate or audience. Toby located Arnold working
-with a squad under big Jim Rose. Arn was, as Toby knew, pretty soft
-after a fairly lazy summer, and the boy in the shade of the big stand
-smiled unfeelingly as he saw his chum straighten himself slowly in
-deference to protesting muscles.
-
-“He will be good and sore to-night,” thought Toby. “Sailing a boat all
-summer doesn’t keep a football man in very good trim, I guess!”
-
-After that he lost interest in the scene before him, and, his somewhat
-battered straw hat on one knee and the lazy breeze drying his damp
-hair, let his thoughts carry him back to Greenhaven and the folks in
-the little white cottage on Harbor Road. It would be very pleasant
-there to-day on the vine-shaded steps, with the harbor and the white
-sails before him and the cheery _click-clock_ of the caulking iron and
-mallet and the busy _pip-pup, pip-pup_ of the gasoline engine sounding
-across from the boat yard. Better still, though, would it be to lie
-in the stern of a boat, main-sheet in hand, and slip merrily out past
-the island to where, even to-day, the white-caps would be dancing on
-the sunlit surface of the bay. He was getting the least bit homesick
-when the sound of approaching steps brought his wandering thoughts
-back. Climbing the aisle was a somewhat thin, carelessly dressed youth.
-His head was bent and so Toby couldn’t see his face well, but there
-was something dimly familiar about the figure. Toby wondered why, with
-several hundred empty seats to choose from, the boy, whoever he was,
-had to come stamping up here. He sighed and changed his position and
-was relapsing into his thoughts again when he saw to his annoyance that
-the approaching youth had stopped at the end of his row, two seats
-distant. Toby’s gaze lifted curiously to the boy’s face. Perhaps it
-was more the two strips of rather soiled surgeon’s plaster adorning
-the chap’s upper lip than the features that led Toby to recognize him.
-Mentally, Toby groaned. Aloud, trying to make his voice sound decently
-friendly, he said: “Hello! Well, how’s it going?”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV
-
-G. W. TUBB
-
-
-“Hello,” answered the other gruffly.
-
-To Toby’s further annoyance he slid into the end seat, as he did so
-producing a folded but rather crumpled handkerchief from a pocket. This
-he held across to Toby.
-
-“’Tain’t very clean,” he said, “but it’s the best I could do.”
-
-“What is it?” asked Toby, accepting it doubtfully. “Oh, I see; my
-handkerchief. You needn’t have bothered. I told you to throw it away.
-Still, much obliged.” It had quite evidently been washed by the boy
-himself and ironed by the simple expedient of laying it while wet on
-some smooth surface, perhaps a windowpane. Faint brownish stains had
-defied the efforts of the amateur laundryman. Toby dropped it into a
-pocket, aware of the close and apparently hostile stare of the other.
-“Much obliged,” he repeated vaguely, for want of anything better to
-say.
-
-“’At’s all right,” answered the other. “Too good a handkerchief to
-throw away.” An awkward silence followed. Toby wished the youth would
-take himself off, but that idea was apparently far from the latter’s
-mind. Instead, he thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers,
-stretched his thin legs before him and scowled down at the busy scene.
-He looked to be about fifteen, Toby thought. His features were not
-bad in themselves, but his expression was sullen and dissatisfied and
-his complexion was too much the color of putty to be pleasant to look
-at. Also, his skin didn’t seem clean and healthy. The same was true
-of the youth as a whole. Toby thought a thorough application of hot
-water and soap would improve him a whole lot, at least externally. His
-clothes were of good enough material and fairly new. But they were
-full of creases and needed brushing. His shoes were scratched at the
-toes and would have been better for dressing and polishing. His collar
-was cleaner than yesterday, but creased and rumpled, and the blue
-four-in-hand scarf needed tightening. On the whole, this chap was not
-a prepossessing member of Yardley Hall society, and Toby had no desire
-to increase the acquaintance. But so long as he was here some sort of
-conversation seemed in order, and so, breaking the silence:
-
-“How’s the cut getting on?” Toby asked.
-
-“All right,” the other answered without turning his head. Then: “Say,”
-he challenged.
-
-“Yes?”
-
-“Your name’s Tucker, ain’t it?”
-
-“Yes. What’s yours, by the way?” Toby was sorry he had asked as soon as
-the question was out.
-
-“Tubb,” was the answer, “George Tubb.” There was a pause. Then,
-defiantly: “Middle name’s William. Go on and say it!”
-
-“Say it? Why, George William Tubb,” responded Toby obligingly.
-
-The other turned and viewed him suspiciously. Then he grunted. “Guess
-you don’t get it,” he muttered. “George W. Tubb, see?”
-
-“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” answered Toby indifferently.
-
-“You would if you saw it written,” said Mr. Tubb gloomily. “Everybody
-does.” He pitched his voice to a falsetto. “‘What’s the W. stand for?
-Wash?’ Gee, I’m sick of it. I tried to tell the guy in the office where
-you get registered that my middle name was Harris, but he said it
-couldn’t be that and begin with W. It’ll be W. in the catalogue, so you
-might as well know it now. Well, I’ve been ‘Wash-tub’ ever since I was
-a foot high, so I guess it don’t matter here!”
-
-“What’s the difference?” asked Toby. “One nickname’s as good as
-another, isn’t it? Names don’t matter.”
-
-“Some don’t. I suppose they call you ‘Red’ or ‘Carrot’ or something
-like that. I wouldn’t mind――――”
-
-“Hold on, Tubb!” Toby’s voice dropped a note. “No one calls me what
-you said. Some fellows have tried to, but they changed their minds.
-Understand?”
-
-Tubb grinned. “Don’t like it, eh? Thought you said names didn’t
-matter! Well, I don’t like my nickname any more than you like yours;
-I mean what fellows started to call you.” The grin faded and Tubb’s
-countenance became overcast again with the settled expression of
-sullenness. “Anyway, what they call me here doesn’t cut any ice. I
-won’t be here long.”
-
-“How’s that?” asked Toby, trying to make his question sound politely
-interested.
-
-“I’m going to beat it. This ain’t any kind of a school for me, Tucker.
-Gee, what would I do here? Look at the gang of highbrows and mamma’s
-darlings! They’d stand for me about two days. I know the sort. Some
-of ’em come to our town in summer. Think they ever have anything to do
-with us town guys? Not on your life! We’re too common for ’em, the dear
-little Willie Boys!”
-
-“Why did you come here then?” asked Toby coldly.
-
-“It was Pop’s idea,” replied Tubb. “Aunt Sarah died last spring out in
-Michigan and she left Pop some money. The will said some of it was to
-go for my schooling. I wanted to go to Huckins’s, in Logansport. Know
-it? It’s an all-right school and two or three fellows from my town go
-there. It don’t cost much, either. But Pop was set on this dive. About
-ten years ago Pop was in partnership with a man named Mullins in the
-logging business, and this Mullins had a boy who went to school here.
-Pop thought a lot of the Mullinses, and when he learned about Aunt
-Sarah’s will he said right off I was to go here. He got the high school
-principal to coach me all summer. I kept telling him I wouldn’t like it
-here, kept telling him it wasn’t any place for a storekeeper’s son, but
-he wouldn’t listen. He said he’d lick the hide off me if I didn’t pass
-the examinations, and I knew he would. So I passed. He’ll lick me if I
-go back home, too, so I’ve got to go and get me a job somewhere. Guess
-I’ll enlist in the Navy. I’ll tell ’em I’m seventeen. They don’t care.
-I know a fellow got in when he was a couple of months younger than I
-am.”
-
-Toby viewed Tubb distastefully during a brief silence. Then: “Seems to
-me,” he said slowly and emphatically, “the Navy is just the place for
-you, Tubb!”
-
-“Sure,” began the other. Then something in Toby’s tone made him pause
-and view the other suspiciously. “What do you mean by that?” he
-demanded.
-
-“Just what I said. What you need is discipline, Tubb, and a whole lot
-of it, and you’ll get it in the Navy. And I wish them joy of you!” Toby
-arose and crowded past to the aisle.
-
-“Ah, go to thunder!” snarled Tubb. “You’re like all the rest of them,
-ain’t you? Silk-sox! Who cares what you think? Say, I hope you ain’t
-caught anything, sitting alongside me like that!”
-
-There was more, but Toby didn’t hear it. Going down the aisle he
-was uncomfortably conscious of the curious looks bent on him by the
-occupants of the nearer seats who had been aroused from their sleepy
-occupation of following the practice by Tubb’s strident voice. He was
-glad when he had reached the ground and turned the corner of the
-stand. Passing between the busy tennis courts, he reflected that
-befriending strangers didn’t work out very satisfactorily for him.
-After this, he decided, smiling whimsically, fellows might drown or be
-cut to pieces for all the help he would offer!
-
-Just before supper, when Arnold came back to Number 12, a trifle
-washed-out looking and not moving very spryly, Toby narrated the
-outcome of the incident in the train. By this time he was able to tell
-of the meeting with George W. Tubb with a touch of humor and Arnold
-listened amusedly, stretched at length on the window-seat.
-
-“You’re right, Toby, the Navy’s just the place for friend Tubbs.”
-
-“Tubb,” corrected Toby. “There’s only one of him, praise be!”
-
-“We’re getting some strange freaks here of late, anyway,” reflected
-Arnold. “There were several on the field this afternoon. Well, it takes
-all sorts to make a world――or a football team! Say, T. Tucker, the new
-coach is a peach. Fan’s crazy about him, and so are the others. Did
-you hear the song-and-dance he gave us before practice? Some sane and
-sensible little speech, that was.”
-
-“What did he say?” asked Toby.
-
-“We-ell,” Arnold hesitated, “I don’t know that he said anything much
-different from what all coaches say at the start of the season. It
-was more the way he said it, I guess. Of course he insisted rather
-painfully on hard work, and told us what a fine, intelligent-looking
-lot we were.”
-
-“Must be nearsighted,” murmured Toby.
-
-“And said something nice about Fan. Oh, it was much the usual speech,
-only――well, it did sound different, somehow. One thing he did say,
-though, T. Tucker, may interest you.”
-
-“You may proceed, Mr. Deering.”
-
-“He said he wanted every fellow in school who had the possible making
-of a football player in him to report not later than Monday, and that
-if they didn’t volunteer he’d draft them! That ought to give you
-something to think about, old thing.”
-
-“Meaning that I have somewhere concealed about me the making of a
-football player?” asked Toby.
-
-“Exactly. You’d better keep out of Lyle’s way or he will grab you.”
-
-After a moment Toby, who had armed himself with towel and soap-dish
-preparatory to a trip to the lavatory, moved to the door but paused
-with his hand on the knob. “He can’t draft me, Arn,” he said.
-
-“Why can’t he, I’d like to know?”
-
-“Because I’m going out for the Second to-morrow.”
-
-“_What!_ Honest? When――How――――”
-
-But Toby had closed the door behind him.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V
-
-WITH THE SECOND
-
-
-Of recent years the custom of having separate organizations for the
-First and Second Teams from the very outset of the season had obtained
-at Yardley. In the old days the Second was made up, perhaps a fortnight
-after the school year had started, of players who were not needed on
-the First and those who, for one reason or another, were ineligible for
-it. As a result, the Second as an adversary for the First, or School,
-Team, never amounted to much until the season was half gone. Under the
-new system the Second came into being two or three days after the start
-of the fall term, with a coaching staff, small but sufficient, of its
-own, a captain elected the preceding year and a general organization
-similar to that of the First save as to size. The coach was inevitably
-some enthusiastic and patriotic fellow who had recently graduated and
-who gave his services free. At times――whenever possible, in fact――he
-summoned other graduates to his assistance. If he was a wise coach,
-he never had more than one assistant at a time. If he was unwise, he
-had――and chaos reigned.
-
-This year the coach was Mr. Burtis. Burtis had, in his time, been
-a remarkable half-back and an equally remarkable kicker, both in
-preparatory school and college. He had left college last spring and
-was, consequently, but twenty-one or twenty-two years of age. Because
-Yardley Hall history accorded him much fame as a player and leader, a
-great deal was expected of him. Toby’s first look at Kendall Burtis
-produced more surprise than anything else. He found himself wondering
-how any man could be as utterly homely as the coach and yet look as
-attractive, how any one could have so many angles in his body and yet
-be so free from awkwardness! Burtis was rather large, ruggedly built,
-square of frame. His mouth was broad, his nose somewhat pug, his hair
-nondescript in hue. Yet in spite of these things the face was pleasing
-and attractive. Perhaps the very dark gray eyes, clear and steady
-and honest, were accountable. Or it may be that the mouth expressed
-kindliness. At all events, after that first instant of surprise and
-confusion, Toby liked the new coach immensely. Whether the new coach
-liked Toby I can’t say. It is quite probable that he didn’t see him,
-for Toby was only one of some forty-eight fellows drawn up in a group
-on the edge of the second diamond that Saturday afternoon.
-
-Toby wondered what words of wisdom would fall from that
-generously-proportioned mouth, and he craned his head over Sid Creel’s
-shoulder that he might hear them all. What he did hear and see were
-hardly worth the exertion. Coach Burtis, a new football snuggled in his
-left elbow and his right hand thrust into a pocket of an old pair of
-gray trousers, looked pleasantly over the little throng for a moment.
-Then: “Well,” he said genially. “It looks like we had material for a
-good team here. Let’s get busy!”
-
-That was all. Toby felt a trifle neglected and disappointed. But he
-had to acknowledge that perhaps getting busy was as important as
-listening to a speech. After that, for more than an hour and a half, he
-had very little opportunity for feeling neglected. There were moments
-when he wished he might. Coach and captain were both believers in hard
-work, and both buckled down resolutely to the task ahead of them.
-More than half the material was inexperienced, much of what remained
-was useless, and only some twelve or fourteen candidates combined
-experience with ability. To-day’s work was the veriest drudgery, and,
-although occasional halts were called, yet the September sun did
-unkind things to many. Toby, rather to his surprise, discovered that
-he was not nearly so hard and fit as he had thought. After ten minutes
-of passing and falling, he perspired from every pore, and ere the
-afternoon’s practice was finished, he felt very much like a wet rag.
-Also, he had somehow managed to develop a painful crick in his left
-shoulder, close to his neck. And the muscles in the backs of his legs
-felt as if some one had pounded them with a board. On the whole, he
-was far less enthusiastic than he had been at three o’clock, and even
-the shower failed of much reaction. Dragging a tired body from the
-gymnasium across the yard to Whitson, he wondered by just what mental
-process he had the day before arrived at the decision to play football!
-
-As a matter of fact, there had been, so far as he could recall, no
-mental process at all. Arnold had threatened him with the First Team
-draft and almost without reflection he had announced that he was going
-out for the Second! Ten minutes before, or even three, he had had no
-more idea of a football career than he had had of jumping from the
-window. Well, reflected Toby ruefully, it just showed that you couldn’t
-be too careful of impulses!
-
-He supposed that Sid Creel was mainly responsible for these aching
-muscles. He had resolutely refused to be persuaded by Sid’s arguments,
-and yet, apparently, he had been! Or else he had done it just to
-surprise Arnold. Maybe that was it. If it was, it was a mighty poor
-reason! Any amount of surprise on the part of Arnold wasn’t worth the
-soreness of those leg muscles! He groaned as he started up the stairs,
-but nearing the door of Number 12, he assumed a carefree and nonchalant
-air designed to deceive Arnold in case that youth was within.
-
-He wasn’t, though, and Toby was thankful. It gave him a chance to lie
-down on the window seat, groaning as much as he pleased while doing it,
-without arousing curiosity. He dropped his cap――he had put by the straw
-hat――on the nearest object and divested himself of an unnecessary coat.
-It was while he was getting rid of the latter article of apparel that
-his eyes fell on an envelope propped against the base of the droplight
-on his side of the table. It bore his name in funny up-and-down
-characters, like the writing of a boy of ten, and the postmark showed
-that it was mailed in Wissining that morning. Of course, it might be
-only an invitation to deal at one of the few local stores, but there
-was evidence against that premise; such as the lack of any address in
-the corner, the queer writing and a brownish smudge along the flap
-suggesting that unclean hands had sealed the envelope. He bore it
-to the window seat, settled himself cautiously against the pile of
-cushions, stretched his aching legs out and tore open the letter. A
-single sheet of blue-ruled paper emerged. Toby read it frowningly.
-
- Dear Tucker: I’m sorry for what I said this afternoon. I didn’t
- mean it because you are the only fellow at this place who has
- been decent towards me since I came here. I got mad and I
- wish I hadn’t and I’m sorry. I wish you’d forgive me, please,
- Tucker. I guess what you said was true about the Navy, I mean,
- and maybe I’ll do like I said. Every one here shows plain that
- I am not wanted at this school and I guess the sooner I beat it
- the better. If more fellows were like you maybe I could stick
- it out. I am not afraid of the studies. It is not that, but the
- fellows here are not my kind I suppose. You are not either, but
- you acted like you did not think much about that. I am just
- writing this because you were decent to me in the train that
- day, more than any other fellow has been, and I do not want
- you to think I am no good at all, with no gratitude. If I do
- not see you again, good-by and good luck, from Yours Truly,
- Geo. W. Tubb.
-
-Toward the end of the queer epistle Toby’s frown disappeared, and when
-he had read it once he read it again. After that he laid it down and
-looked out over the woods below the railroad cut, at the foot of the
-Prospect, and so to the blue expanse of Long Island Sound. A sail boat
-dipped slowly along the shore and afar out a cocky tug was leading a
-draggled parade of three coal barges. Presently the frown crept back
-again, and he lifted the letter, folded it and put it back in its
-envelope.
-
-“Suppose I ought to answer it,” he thought, “only, what can I say? Tell
-him I don’t mind what he said, I suppose, although it happens that I do
-mind. At least, I ought to. He’s a very objectionable, soggy-minded,
-unclean fellow, and I don’t want any more to do with him. Still, that
-doesn’t say that he isn’t having a horribly messy time here. Of course
-fellows don’t take to him. He looks dirty and bad-tempered and he talks
-worse than he looks. He doesn’t belong here. Seems to realize it, too.
-Shows he has some sense, doesn’t it? Well, I didn’t say he didn’t have
-sense. Trouble with him is he’s been left to do as he likes too much,
-I guess. Bet you I know that father of his. Severe as anything when
-things go wrong, and the rest of the time doesn’t pay any attention to
-the kid. He didn’t say anything about a mother or brothers or sisters.
-Probably there’s just the two of them in one of those mean little towns
-where nothing ever happens that’s worth while. Bet you there isn’t
-even a movie theater there! Dad puts out the lamp at nine o’clock and
-goes to bed and the kid has to go, too, and the only way he can have
-any excitement is to sneak down the rain-spout and get into mischief!
-Oh, well, it’s no affair of mine. Still, I am sort of sorry for Tubb.
-‘Washtub.’ Beastly nickname! Wonder who his adviser is. Probably hasn’t
-been near him, and would only growl and be ugly if he went. Best thing
-can happen to George W. Tubb is to seek pastures new.”
-
-Toby yawned and closed his eyes. The faint breath of cool evening air
-that blew in through the open window beside him made him feel very
-sleepy. He would write a couple of lines to Tibb――no, Tubb――after
-supper. Tell him it’s all right, and――――
-
-Toby fell asleep.
-
-Ten minutes later he dreamed that he was falling down innumerable
-flights of stairs, bounding from one to another with ever increasing
-momentum. He didn’t seem concerned about the process of falling, but he
-knew that when he reached the bottom, if he ever did, there would be
-an awful smash! In case there shouldn’t be enough left of him to groan
-then, maybe he had better do it now. So he did, quite frightfully. And
-opened his eyes to find Arnold and Frank tugging at him and laughing.
-
-“Wake up, Toby! It isn’t true!”
-
-“N-no,” agreed Toby doubtfully. “But――I’m glad you stopped me before I
-got to the bottom!”
-
-“Nightmare?” asked Frank. “I have it sometimes. Get a move on. We’re
-going to get supper early and beat it over to Greenburg for the first
-house at the movies.”
-
-“I don’t see any use in my spending good money to see movies,” demurred
-Toby, sitting up sleepily, “when all I’ve got to do is go to sleep and
-have movies of my own!”
-
-Arnold grinned. “How did practice go?” he asked significantly.
-
-“Fine.” Toby was quite cheerful and nonchalant. “Made me sleepy,
-though, I guess.”
-
-“Hope you’re not tired or lame or anything like that? You had such a
-lot of fun ragging me yesterday, you know. Too bad if _you_――er――――”
-
-“Me? Oh, well, it was pretty warm, of course, but when you’re in good
-hard condition――――”
-
-“What’s the matter?” asked Arnold, grinning.
-
-“Matter? Why?”
-
-“I thought you made a face when you stood up. My mistake, of course!”
-
-“I don’t know what you’re getting at,” declared Toby with great
-dignity. “If you think that a little football practice――_ouch! Gee!_”
-He sat down again on the window seat and rubbed his back ruefully,
-while the others laughed with wicked glee.
-
-“It won’t do, old thing! There’s no use stalling. You’re as bad as I
-was yesterday, when you had the beautiful cheek to sit there and read
-me a lecture on not keeping fit! Where does it hurt worst?”
-
-“All over,” groaned Toby. “I’ll be all right after I move around
-a while, though. That’s one advantage of being in fine physical
-condition: you may get a bit lame but you get right over it!”
-
-“Isn’t he the wonderful bluffer?” asked Arnold admiringly to Frank.
-“Well, go ahead and move around, old thing. It’s five minutes of, and
-we want to get over there before seven.”
-
-“Tell me one thing first,” begged Toby, squirming about from his waist
-up. “Do they have cushions on the seats at the movie house?”
-
-“Oh, yes, and they’ll give you a couple of pillows at the ticket office
-if you ask for ’em,” answered Frank. “Hustle now!”
-
-“What you tell me sounds perfectly beautiful,” said Toby sadly, “but
-I’m afraid it isn’t true.”
-
-Thereupon Arnold thrust towel and soap into his hands, Frank held the
-door open and between them they pushed him, groaning and remonstrating,
-into the corridor and headed him toward the lavatory.
-
-“It’s really an awful joke on him,” chuckled Arnold as Toby’s lagging
-footsteps receded down the hall. “He thought he was as hard as nails,
-and had a fine time crowing over me yesterday. Said it took more than
-sailing a boat to keep a fellow in shape!”
-
-“I guess the only way to keep fit enough for football,” said Frank,
-feelingly, “is to chop trees all summer. I was just about all in last
-night. How did you manage to persuade him to take up football, anyway,
-Arn? I thought he was dead set against it.”
-
-“So did I. _I_ didn’t persuade him. I don’t know who did――or what! He
-sprung it on me suddenly yesterday. I’m glad, though. I think there’s a
-good football player in Toby, Frank.”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI
-
-SIGNALS
-
-
-Although Toby was back in Whitson before nine that evening, it is
-needless to say that the note he had promised himself to write to
-George Tubb did not get written. In fact Toby forgot all about it until
-the next morning, when Arnold found Tubb’s letter on the floor and
-asked Toby if it was anything he wanted to keep.
-
-“No, throw it in the basket,” answered Toby. “Hold on, though! Guess
-I’ll keep it. I’ve got to answer it to-day. Stick it on the table, Arn.”
-
-Later it got buried under a book and so during the course of a busy day
-or two Toby again forgot it. He might have remembered it on Sunday,
-which, as at every preparatory school in the land, was the recognized
-letter-writing day of the week at Yardley, but he didn’t. He wrote to
-his folks in the afternoon until Arn, who never spent much time on his
-correspondence, dragged him away to the river and a certain shining
-blue canoe. Then he finished the epistle in the evening just before
-bedtime, and retired with a fine feeling of duty performed. Monday
-witnessed a change in temperature. There was a light frost on the
-ground when Toby and Arnold hurried over to chapel, and, although the
-middle of the day was bright and warm, by the time practice began on
-the gridirons there was enough nip in the air to make work with the
-pigskin more agreeable.
-
-Toby found himself on a squad of fellows of much his own age and
-football experience――or lack of it. It didn’t seem to him that he
-showed much promise of ever being better than a dub at the game, and
-while he did rather enjoy the work, he was not vastly concerned over
-the prospect of being dropped. He had been dropped very promptly last
-fall, and he expected a similar fate this season. Of course, he was
-heavier now than then, but he guessed football required something more
-than weight of a fellow. Sid Creel was playing center on another squad
-in signal drill that Monday afternoon, so far as Toby could discern,
-conducting himself in a highly meritorious fashion. Sid had weight and,
-apparently, ability, and Toby decided that this year his good-natured
-perseverance was to be rewarded.
-
-After three quarters of an hour of “baby-play” the Second Team
-candidates were summoned to the bench and Coach Burtis announced the
-first scrimmage. “Who have we for center on B Team, Harris?” he asked
-the trainer.
-
-“Center? Well, there’s Galvin and that tow-headed chap over there,
-Coach. And Creel. Creel’s got the build, all right. Want to try him?”
-
-“Yes. And Burnett and Hodgson for guards. And――what’s your name, you
-chap?”
-
-“Thorson, sir.”
-
-“Well, Thorson, you take left tackle on B. I want another tackle now.
-Who wants to play tackle? All right, I’ll take you: the fellow in the
-green sweater. Now, a couple of ends, Harris. Yes, they’ll do. Burns at
-quarter. Come on, Burns! And Folwell and――――”
-
-“Nelson’s played half, Mr. Burtis,” suggested Grover Beech.
-
-“I want him on A Team. Who else is there? Fosdick? All right. And that
-fellow down there, whatever his name is, for full-back. All right, get
-out there, fellows! You referee, Harris, please. I’ll be ump. I want
-all the rest of you chaps to follow the play closely and learn all you
-can. We’ll play two ten-minute periods, Harris. Team A takes the ball
-and north goal. Now then, let’s see what you fellows know about the
-game!”
-
-At first it didn’t seem that they knew very much, for signals went
-wrong, fumble followed fumble and the players became occasionally so
-inextricably mixed up that scrimmage had to be halted while they were
-disentangled. But Coach Burtis, alternately umpire and critic, was
-possessed of a vast patience, and toward the last of the first ten
-minutes things went better. Team A worked down to the opponent’s twelve
-yards and would have scored if the line had held. But a B Team tackle
-trickled through and laid White on his back before he was well started
-on a wide run, and after that Frick, quarter-back on the attacking
-side, missed a try-at-goal by many yards.
-
-A five-minute rest followed, during which the coach and the trainer
-and Grover Beech lectured and criticized, and then, with many changes
-in each line-up, the scrimmage began again. Toby still decorated a
-bench, looking rather colorful with his red thatch obtruding from a
-blue blanket. Toby had dutifully watched the efforts of the players,
-but it cannot be truthfully said that he learned much. Perhaps he was
-too attentive to the performance and fortunes of Sid Creel at center
-on Team B. Sid appeared to be playing his position rather well,
-Toby thought, although he didn’t pretend to be anything of a judge.
-At least, Sid lasted longer than most fellows of his team, returning
-breathless to the bench only when the last period was more than half
-over. He squirmed into a place beside Toby, pulling a blanket about his
-broad shoulders.
-
-“I guess he didn’t have much on me,” Sid panted, “if he is ten pounds
-heavier!”
-
-“Who?” asked Toby.
-
-“Watson. He didn’t get past me once, and I turned him twice. Did you
-notice?”
-
-“Who’s Watson? Their center?”
-
-“Yes. If they’d given us a couple of decent guards we’d have put it all
-over that bunch. Burnett isn’t so bad, but Hodgson laid down every time
-any one looked at him! You didn’t get in, did you? What are you trying
-for?”
-
-“That’s what I’ve been wondering, Sid.”
-
-“I mean what position.”
-
-“How do I know? End, I suppose. Or half. Search me!”
-
-“Well, you’d better make up your mind. When Coach yells for an end the
-next time, sing out and race on there. That’s the only way you’ll get a
-chance. Beat the other fellow to it, Toby.”
-
-“I’d be afraid he’d take me,” answered Toby dryly. “I don’t know any
-more about playing end than――than you do center!”
-
-Sid grinned. “You watch me, Toby. I’m going to fade Watson before this
-season’s much older, my child. Honest, I really believe I’ve got a
-chance to stick this year. Of course, it’s a bit early yet, but――――”
-
-“What’s he yelling?” interrupted Toby. Play had paused, a youth was
-limping to the side-line and Coach Burtis was shouting toward the bench.
-
-“Quarter,” said Sid. He looked left and right along the benches. Here
-and there a player squirmed indecisively but none appeared to have
-enough courage to offer his services. “Guess all the quarters are used
-up,” mused Sid.
-
-Trainer Harris added his voice to the coach’s. “Aren’t there any
-quarter-backs over there? Get a move on, somebody! Any of you!”
-
-“Coming!” shouted Toby, throwing aside his blanket and jumping to his
-feet.
-
-“He said quarter, you idiot!” hissed Sid. “You aren’t a quarter!”
-
-“How do you know?” laughed Toby. “_I_ don’t!”
-
-“All right, this way,” greeted the Coach, as Toby raced on. “What’s the
-name?”
-
-“Tucker, sir.”
-
-“Ever played quarter, Tucker?”
-
-“No, sir.”
-
-“Well, then what the mischief――――”
-
-“Trainer said any of us, sir.”
-
-Mr. Burtis frowned, smiled and nodded shortly. “Go ahead then. Let’s
-see what you can do. Know the signals?”
-
-“Yes, sir.” Toby was pretty certain that he had forgotten them, but it
-wouldn’t do to say so! Turning, he caught the amused smile of Captain
-Beech. Toby dropped the lid of his left eye gravely and stepped to
-position behind center.
-
-“Look what you’re doing, Tucker,” warned the coach. “Third down and
-four to go.” There was amusement in his tone and Toby flushed. Third
-down and four, he thought hurriedly. That meant that a line play wasn’t
-the thing. What was, then? He hesitated and glanced doubtfully at the
-backs. The trainer blew his whistle. Something had to be done and done
-quickly. If B Team hadn’t been having luck with A’s line there was no
-use trying to get four yards between tackles, even on a third down.
-The teams were near the middle of the field, and A had three men back,
-evidently expecting an open play. Then why not――――
-
-“14――23――8――――” Toby’s voice sounded very weak and small to Toby.
-“14――23――――”
-
-“_Signals! Signals!_” The whole back-field was remonstrating, it
-seemed! His heart sank. He had got his signals wrong! But how? No, he
-was right. It was the others who were wrong!
-
-“Signals!” he cried, scowling at the nearer of the three backs behind
-him. “14――27――8――196――――”
-
-The team awoke to action. Full-back dashed headlong upon him, took
-the pass and went, twisting and boring, into the mêlée. Toby threw
-himself behind, triumphant. His signals _had_ been right, just as he
-had known! (It wasn’t until after practice was over that he learned
-that he had changed them the second time!) The play went through for
-well over three yards, the unfeasible for once proving feasible, and
-B Team exulted and looked approval at Toby. Toby tried to be modest
-about it, which, considering that he had called for the play in sheer
-desperation, not remembering at the moment anything else to call for,
-wasn’t hard! Some one, too, had walked on his face, and that helped him
-toward humility.
-
-Realizing that he had established a reputation for generalship, Toby
-tried hard to live up to it, but although B did not get the necessary
-eighteen inches or so on the next down, the succeeding play failed
-dismally and B lost nearly all she had gained. Toby tried to assure
-himself that the fault was the right half-back’s, but something told
-him that an end run from balanced formation was predestined to fail
-and that another time he would remember that there was such thing as
-a shift! Perhaps he would have vindicated the reputation gained from
-his first lucky play if the scrimmage hadn’t ended then and there; or
-perhaps he would have become exposed for the impostor he knew himself
-to be. At all events, Toby welcomed the whistle heartily.
-
-Afterwards, in the gymnasium, Grover Beech detained him on his way from
-the shower. “Snappy work, Tucker,” he said, smilingly. “Glad to see you
-with us.”
-
-Toby reflected the other’s smile in somewhat sickly fashion. “Thanks,”
-he answered lamely. “Of course, I didn’t know anything about playing
-quarter, Beech――――”
-
-“Well, you got away with it, anyway! That’s the main thing. And that
-plunge at guard when we were looking for a pass was clever strategy.”
-There was a twinkle in his eye, however. Toby’s smile broadened.
-
-“Have a heart!” he begged. “I didn’t know whether that play was going
-to right or left, Beech!”
-
-“Well, I’m glad it went to the right,” laughed the Second Team captain,
-“for if it had come my way I’d have been just as unready for it as Weld
-was! Going to try for quarter, Tucker?”
-
-“Gee, no! I’ve had all I want of it, thanks. I just did it as a sort
-of joke. I’m no football player, Beech, and you’ll miss my shining
-countenance in a day or two.”
-
-“Oh, I hope not,” answered the other. “Better stick it out.”
-
-“And you will, if I have my say,” he added to himself as Toby went off.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII
-
-TOBY MAKES A CALL
-
-
-That evening Tubb’s letter fell to the floor when Toby moved a book on
-the study table, and Toby, with a qualm of conscience, rescued it and
-re-read it, a perplexed frown on his countenance. Then he drew a pad of
-paper toward him and poised his pen above it. But that is as far as he
-got. After a minute of thought he put the pen down and resolutely, if
-reluctantly, pushed back his chair. “How late is the office open, Arn?”
-he asked.
-
-“Eight, I think,” replied his roommate, without raising his eyes from
-his work. “What’s the matter?”
-
-“Nothing. I――just want to find out where some one lives. Back after a
-bit.”
-
-Toby made his way downstairs and followed the walk to Oxford. At the
-end of the corridor the ground-glass panel marked “Office” still glowed
-with light, and when Toby pushed it open, Mr. Forisher, the secretary,
-was still at work beyond the railing. Toby made known his wants and
-the secretary silently pointed with his pen toward a list tacked
-to a board beside the door. The names of the students were there,
-arranged alphabetically, and Toby found the T’s and went down the list:
-Tolliver, Tooker, Traine, Tubb, Tucker――――
-
-“Whoa!” murmured Toby. “‘Tubb, G. W., Fremont, N. H., 4 C., W. 31.’
-What do you know? Right over my head! That’s the room Felter and Dunphy
-had last year. He and I are side by side on the list. Hope that isn’t a
-what-you-call-it――omen!” He retraced his steps to Whitson and ascended
-two flights of worn stairs. The upper corridor awakened memories,
-some pleasant, some otherwise. As ever, it was but dimly lighted by a
-single gas-jet near the head of the stairs, and its farther ends were
-pockets of gloom. For some reason electricity as a lighting method
-had never penetrated to Whitson, although the other buildings had it.
-Toby glanced toward the door of his old room ere he turned his back
-to it and made his way along the rough boards of the hall. Number 31
-was on the front of the building, about halfway between stair-well and
-corridor end. It was too dark to read the single card thumb-tacked to
-the portal and Toby knocked instead. There was a noticeable interim
-of silence before a voice that was strange to the caller called an
-ungracious “Come in!”
-
-Toby accepted the invitation. The only light in the room came from the
-green-shaded droplight on the littered table directly before the door,
-and its radius was small, leaving most of the room in shadow. For a
-moment Toby thought he had imagined the voice and that the room was
-empty. Then, however, his eyes accustoming themselves to the gloom, he
-saw a blur of white and gray beyond the table that gradually evolved
-into the form of George Tubb. Tubb was minus coat and waistcoat, and
-one suspender had escaped from a shoulder.
-
-“Hello,” said Toby uncertainly. There was something in the strained
-silence of the room that made him uncomfortable. “I got your note,
-Tubb,” he went on awkwardly, “and I meant to answer it――――”
-
-“That’s all right,” growled Tubb. “Forget it. I had a brain-storm.”
-
-Toby had advanced to the side of the table, and now his host was
-plainly revealed. Tubb had a towel in one hand and with it, as he
-spoke, he dabbed at his face. Each time the towel came away there was a
-new stain on it.
-
-“Hasn’t that cut healed yet?” asked Toby in surprise.
-
-“Doesn’t look so, does it?” muttered Tubb. He pulled the dropped
-suspender over his shoulder and turned as though in search of his coat.
-
-“But――――” began Toby.
-
-“It was all right till I landed on it!” interrupted a strident voice
-from the other side of the room. “I hope he bleeds to death!”
-
-Startledly, Toby swung about and peered into the shadows. Tubb laughed
-mirthlessly. “That’s what I’ve got to live with,” he announced. “Its
-name’s Ramsey. Have a look at it, Tucker. Show the gentleman your face,
-Percy.”
-
-“You big bully! You――you country jay! You wait! I’ll get square, all
-right. You’ll have――――”
-
-“What is this?” broke in Toby, disgusted and resentful. “You fellows
-been scrapping?” He stepped around to where the second occupant of the
-room could be discerned beyond the confusing radiance of the droplight.
-The appearance of the unhealthily-stout youth confronting him answered
-the question. Ramsey’s nose was bleeding profusely, and an already
-overworked handkerchief was doing little to disguise the fact. The
-boy’s face, pale save for flaming disks of red about the cheek bones,
-was convulsed with childish, helpless passion, and his dark eyes
-flashed as venomously as a snake’s.
-
-“You ought to be proud of your friend,” he exclaimed in a voice still
-high and trembling with anger. “The country jay! All he can do is
-call names and――and use his fists. I’ll get even, though! I guess the
-faculty will have something to say! I’ve stood all I’m going to from
-the dirty-neck――――”
-
-“Drop it!” shouted Tubb, springing toward him. Toby pushed him back.
-
-“Listen, you two,” he said vehemently. “There’s been enough of this.
-I don’t know what it’s all about, but you ought both to be ashamed of
-yourselves. Any one would think you were a couple of――of gutter kids!
-This sort of thing doesn’t go here, and you’d better learn that right
-now. Get a towel, Ramsey, and wash your face. Best way to stop that
-bleeding is to keep a cold bandage there. You――――”
-
-“No one asked your advice,” sputtered Ramsey. “He’s broken my nose――――”
-
-“I hope so,” growled Tubb. “I’d like to break your fat neck, Percy!”
-
-“That’s what he does!” Ramsey fairly shrieked. “You heard him! He’s
-always doing it! I’m going to the Office――――”
-
-“What is it he’s always doing?” asked Toby, puzzled and impatient.
-Ramsey became incoherent; but Tubb, with a laugh of derision, explained.
-
-“He doesn’t like being called Percy.”
-
-“Then why――――”
-
-“Because that’s what he is, a regular Percy. Besides, Percy isn’t any
-worse than Horace, and that’s his real name!”
-
-“Yes, and you call me by it! I’d rather be named Horace than Tubb any
-day! At least, I wash my neck sometimes, and that’s more than you do,
-you dirty――――”
-
-“I told you to drop it,” growled Tubb, again trying to push past Toby.
-“I’m as clean as you are, you fat sissy! One more crack about my neck
-and I’ll finish you for keeps!”
-
-“No, you won’t do anything of the kind,” said Toby severely. “Stop
-calling each other names and keep quiet a minute. The first thing you
-know you’ll have a faculty up here! What’s the matter with you fellows?
-Are you crazy?”
-
-“He’s always nagging me!” Ramsey’s wrath was turning to grief, and
-there was a sob in his voice. “He’s always calling me Percy――――”
-
-“Then let me alone,” retorted Tubb. “It’s bad enough having to room
-with a mother’s pet like you, without getting your lip all the time.
-I’ve warned you fifty times, haven’t I? Tell the truth now! Haven’t I
-told you over and over that I wouldn’t stand for your sneers and your
-silly jokes?”
-
-“I’m not afraid of you, you big――――”
-
-“Stop!” commanded Toby sternly. “I’ll take a hand myself now, and the
-first one of you who calls names will get a licking from me. I mean it.
-It may not be my business, but I’m going to make it that. Tubb, you sit
-down in that chair. Ramsey, you sit in the other one.”
-
-Tubb, with a fleeting grin, obeyed unhesitatingly. Horace Ramsey looked
-rebellious, muttered, smeared his face anew with the gory handkerchief
-and finally subsided. There was no lavatory on the third floor of
-Whitson and the rooms up there were supplied with washstands. Toby
-poured water from pitcher to bowl and soaked a towel in it. Silence
-reigned save for occasional muffled gasps from Ramsey. Toby wrung the
-towel half dry.
-
-“Hold that tight to your nose, Ramsey, and keep your head back as
-far as you can,” he directed. Ramsey twitched his heavy shoulders
-resentfully, but Toby tipped his chin back and planked the folded
-towel over the leaking nose. “That’s it. Hold it there with your hand.
-It will stop in a minute, I guess. Anyway, cold water will take the
-soreness out.”
-
-“Yes, it will,” snuffled Ramsey. “I don’t think! He’s broken it, I tell
-you! I ought to see the doctor.”
-
-“Oh, I don’t think so,” replied Toby reassuringly. “Noses don’t break
-very easily. They feel broken lots of times when they’re just bruised.”
-
-“I didn’t hit him hard enough――――” began Tubb.
-
-“You did, too! You――you hammered me!”
-
-“No, I didn’t,” the other growled, “but I will the next time!”
-
-“There isn’t going to be any next time,” said Toby quietly. He found a
-chair beside one of the beds and set it in front of the belligerents.
-Secretly, he was rather amused at the rôle he had assumed. He was no
-more than a year older than Tubb, and he might be Ramsey’s senior by
-even less; and he was far from certain that, should he be required to
-fulfill his threat, he was much more than a match for Tubb when it came
-to a fight. But he kept his doubts to himself and viewed the two with
-assurance. “Let’s get this cleared up now,” he went on pleasantly. “You
-two fellows will have to room together at least until Christmas recess,
-and you might just as well make up your minds to do it peacefully.
-What’s your objection to Tubb, Ramsey? You shut up, Tubb: you’ll have
-your say in a minute.”
-
-“He doesn’t like me,” said Ramsey, after a moment’s hesitation, “and
-he’s always nagging at me. He calls me Percy and makes fun of me
-because I wear decent socks and underwear and things――――”
-
-“You ought to see ’em,” muttered Tubb scathingly.
-
-“Please!” said Toby. “Ramsey’s doing the talking now. And what else,
-Ramsey?”
-
-“Well, he’s――he’s always at it! It would make any fellow mad, I guess!
-And he says I’m fat!”
-
-“All right. Now, Tubb, what’s your grouch?”
-
-“Oh, he makes me sick, Tucker! Look at him! How’d you like to live with
-him all the time? Looks like a fat white toad!”
-
-“I’d rather be a toad――――” But Ramsey stopped under Toby’s warning
-look, and subsided in mutters.
-
-“He says I don’t wash my neck and that I’m a country greenhorn,”
-resumed Tubb. “He’s one of these Willie Boys from the city who think
-they know it all. He wears lavender and old-rose socks and the cutest
-little union suits you ever saw, Tucker. And――oh, he makes me tired!”
-
-“Fine!” said Toby. “Now I’ll talk.” He turned to Ramsey. “Tubb says
-you’re fat, and so you are, Ramsey. You’re disgustingly soft and fat.
-You ought to be ashamed of it. If I were you I’d get rid of twenty
-pounds if I had to lose sleep to do it. Stop eating sweet stuff for a
-month, get outdoors and exercise. As for lavender socks, that’s your
-affair. If you don’t like being called Percy, don’t act Percy.” He
-turned to Tubb. “Ramsey says you don’t wash your neck, Tubb, and you
-don’t. At least, you don’t wash it enough. It’s not clean. I’ve noticed
-that myself. As for being from the country, why, you are, aren’t you?
-There’s nothing to be ashamed of in that, and if you aren’t ashamed of
-it you won’t mind being reminded of it. Now the real trouble with you
-two fellows is just this. You are both of you too much concerned with
-yourselves. You need to think about something else for awhile. Neither
-of you has a good big interest in life, and you need one. Know any
-game, Ramsey?”
-
-“Game?” repeated the boy vaguely.
-
-“Well, sport, then. Ever play football or tennis or golf?”
-
-“I’ve played tennis,” said Ramsey uninterestedly. “I don’t care for
-sports.”
-
-“You don’t need to tell me that. But wouldn’t you rather play tennis
-or golf, or even football, than have to take an hour in the gymnasium
-every day?”
-
-“I don’t think so,” muttered Ramsey.
-
-“You’ll change your mind presently, then. What about you, Tubb? You’ve
-played baseball, I guess.”
-
-“Sure.”
-
-“Football?”
-
-“Some.”
-
-“Good enough! I’ll get you started to-morrow. Got any togs?”
-
-Tubb shook his head. “I didn’t bring ’em. They weren’t――weren’t dressy
-enough for this dump!”
-
-“Can you afford to buy some new ones?”
-
-“Yes, if I want to.” Tubb sounded defiant.
-
-“Get some to-morrow before three, then. There are two or three stores
-in Greenburg where you can get fixed up. I’ll come up here for you at
-three sharp. What hour have you got free in the morning, Ramsey, on
-Tuesdays?”
-
-“Nine to ten,” replied Ramsey, after consideration.
-
-“Good! So have I. Meet me at the tennis courts at five past nine.
-Got a racket?” Ramsey nodded. “All right. That’s settled. Now I want
-you fellows to promise me something.” He eyed them both sternly. “I
-want you to promise me that you’ll both keep silent the rest of the
-evening. You’re not to speak a word, either of you, until you wake
-up in the morning. That is,” he added, smiling, “after I go. And I’m
-going now. Nine-five at the courts, Ramsey. Three sharp up here, Tubb.
-Good-night!”
-
-A sort of dazed silence held them both until the door was almost shut
-on Toby. Then:
-
-“Good-night,” stammered Ramsey, and:
-
-“Go to thunder!” growled Tubb.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII
-
-TUBB TRIES FOOTBALL
-
-
-Arnold was interested and amused, but he didn’t approve, and he said
-so. “You’ll have those freaks hanging around your neck for the rest
-of the year, T. Tucker,” he remonstrated. “You can’t make over a poor
-thing like this Tubb, or the other chap, from what you say of him. What
-do you expect to do? Play tennis with Rumsey――――”
-
-“Ramsey,” Toby corrected meekly.
-
-“_Rum_ is more like it, I guess,” accepted Arnold grimly. “Anyhow, do
-you mean to take him on at tennis every day until he loses his fat
-and――and finds a soul? Besides, you can’t play tennis for beans!”
-
-“N-no, but I dare say I’m good enough for Ramsey. Oh, I guess I have
-made a _faux pas_, as we say in French, but, hang it, Arn, you can’t
-see a couple of idiots making fools of themselves――――”
-
-“Idiots generally are fools, aren’t they? Look here, Toby, something’s
-gone wrong with your alleged intellect. You didn’t used to hunt trouble
-like this. You were beautifully――er――what’s the word?――beautifully
-aloof. Used to mind your own business better than any chap I ever knew.
-Now look at you! Going out of your way to get mixed up with all sorts
-of queer fellows like this Tubb and this other freak. Isn’t young
-Lingard enough of a warning to you?”
-
-“Tommy doesn’t love me any more,” answered Toby pathetically. “And I
-just must have affection, Arn!”
-
-“Affection!” grunted his chum. “What you need is a swift kick, my son!
-All right, all right, go on with your missionary work, but don’t ask me
-to help you out. And, for the love of lemons, Toby, don’t have these
-weird friends of yours in here!”
-
-“Well, I shan’t encourage them to call, but, of course, Arn, if they
-should――――” Toby smiled innocently.
-
-“Well, if they do I’ll beat it. Now shut up and let me study this
-beastly math.”
-
-But although Toby pretended to be undisturbed by Arnold’s predictions,
-secretly he was regretful. Why, he wondered, as he tried to fix his
-mind on the subject of French nouns, had he insisted on assuming the
-part of guide and mentor to those two unpromising chaps in Number 31?
-Of course, neither of them would keep the engagements he had made for
-them. Things wouldn’t happen as easy as that. Well, in that case he
-would have a good excuse to drop them, he reflected. After all, it
-wasn’t his business to look after their welfare. Besides, he was going
-to be far too busy, what with lessons and football, to fuss with them.
-Busy? Gee, he’d say he was! He meant to go after another scholarship
-this term, and that meant real work. He ought never to have taken on
-football. It wasn’t worth risking a scholarship for. No, sir, it just
-wasn’t! And he’d drop it the end of the week surely――if it didn’t drop
-him first!
-
-To his surprise, Ramsey was awaiting him at the tennis courts when
-he reached them, a minute or two late, the next forenoon. Ramsey was
-appropriately attired in white flannels and looked less objectionable
-this morning, even though his nose was still somewhat larger than
-normal. He greeted Toby rather sheepishly, as if ashamed of having kept
-the appointment. But Toby pretended that there was nothing unusual in
-the situation, and greeted Ramsey cheerily. Perhaps he was a little
-bit disappointed at finding the other there, though. If he was we can
-scarcely blame him.
-
-Ramsey proved to be a better player than Toby had anticipated. He had
-a puzzling service and a good back-hand stroke, and was rather crafty
-at placing. In short, if Ramsey had had half as much speed as science
-he would have run away with the first set. As it was, Toby finally
-captured it, 7 to 5. Ramsey wasn’t enthusiastic about a second set, but
-Toby refused to heed his reluctance and they went at it again. Now,
-however, Ramsey’s skill was more than offset by weariness, and Toby did
-pretty much as he liked with his opponent. He might have secured the
-victory very easily, but he purposely allowed Ramsey to take the fourth
-and sixth games, determined that the latter’s first dose should be a
-strong one. The morning was sufficiently warm to put even Toby in a
-perspiration, and Ramsey literally oozed moisture. The second set went
-as far as 4 to 2 and then recitations called them back to Oxford. There
-had been little conversation during the playing, but returning up the
-hill Ramsey became rather communicative.
-
-“I guess I could beat you, Tucker,” he said, mopping his flushed face
-with a sodden handkerchief, “if I wasn’t so out of practice. I haven’t
-played much for a couple of years. My heart isn’t very strong, you see,
-and my mother doesn’t like me to do much of it. In fact, one set at a
-time is my usual limit.”
-
-“Yes, you’d beat me easily if you weighed fifteen pounds less,” agreed
-Toby. “Who told you your heart isn’t strong?”
-
-“Why, I don’t know,” replied the other vaguely. “It’s always been
-that way, ever since I was a kid. Mother says I had scarlet fever or
-something when I was five or six, and that sort of weakened it. I dare
-say it isn’t really dangerous, you know, but you can’t help thinking
-about it sometimes. I get tired very easily. It was about all I could
-do to keep on my feet toward the last, back there. My breath gives out
-and my heart gets to pounding horribly. I’m strong enough other ways,
-though.”
-
-Toby surveyed him gravely. “You would be if you took care of yourself,”
-he said. “If you didn’t eat too much and took plenty of exercise you’d
-do, I guess. You’re as soft as a lump of dough now, though,” he added
-unfeelingly. “How much do you weigh?”
-
-“I don’t know. I haven’t been weighed for a long time.” Ramsey’s tone
-was aggrieved.
-
-“Run into the gym the first chance you get and find out. And make a
-note of it, Ramsey. Well, see you again. I enjoyed playing. Maybe we
-can have another game some day.” He was purposely careless and vague,
-and found his reward in the flicker of disappointment in Ramsey’s eyes.
-
-“I’d like it, too,” murmured the boy. “I suppose you’re pretty busy,
-though.”
-
-“Fairly, yes. I tell you what, I’ll drop around some evening and
-we’ll compare schedules. Maybe we can get in an hour now and then in
-the mornings. If I were you, though, Ramsey, I’d try to find some
-fellow to play with meanwhile. Take your racket down to the court in
-the afternoon and hang around. You can generally run across some one
-looking for a game. So long!”
-
-They parted in the corridor and Toby, hurrying along the west hall,
-told himself that perhaps, after all, Horace Ramsey was worth troubling
-about. Anyway, no harm had been done, and if Ramsey did take up tennis
-again positive good would result. All the boy needed was to get rid of
-a lot of fat by healthful exercise and wise eating. “Got to get that
-bum heart notion out of his head, though,” Toby added. “Probably got
-as good a heart as I have, or any other chap. Fine scheme to bring
-a boy up with the idea that he can’t play tennis or take exercise
-because his heart is weak! Swell way to strengthen it, loafing around
-and eating everything that’s rich and soggy! Of course, he may have
-something wrong with it; it’s possible; but I don’t believe it. I’ll
-get him to go to Mr. Bendix and see what he says.”
-
-At three o’clock Toby rapped on the portal of Number 31 according to
-agreement. Tubb bade him enter. Tubb was not, as Toby observed, ready
-for football. In fact, Tubb didn’t look to be ready for anything but to
-make himself disagreeable. Ramsey was not there.
-
-“Thought you were going to be all ready,” announced Toby as he closed
-the door behind him. “Get a move on, Tubb, it’s three now. Where are
-your togs?”
-
-“I didn’t get any,” answered the other defiantly.
-
-“Why not? Didn’t they have them? Did you try――――”
-
-“Oh, what’s the use? I’m not going out for football. What chance would
-I have? I don’t know any one and I haven’t any pull. And I ain’t much
-good at it, anyway.”
-
-“You can learn, can’t you? There isn’t time to argue about it, Tubb.
-You can get your togs to-morrow. I’ll get you fixed out all right for
-to-day. I’ve got an old pair of pants in my locker, and we can borrow
-shoes. You’ve got an old sweater, haven’t you?”
-
-“I’ve changed my mind,” growled Tubb stubbornly.
-
-“I haven’t,” replied Toby pleasantly. “Come on now! We’ve got
-to hustle! I told them I was going to bring you, and they’ll be
-disappointed if I don’t.”
-
-Tubb inelegantly expressed unbelief. “Told who?” he demanded.
-
-“Never mind who,” said Toby, “you come on and see.” To be very
-truthful, Toby had quite casually mentioned to Grover Beech at noon
-that he was bringing another Second Team candidate out with him in the
-afternoon, and Beech had nodded approvingly, but that Beech would be
-disappointed was somewhat problematical.
-
-“Well,” said Tubb, “I can’t go to-day. Maybe to-morrow――――”
-
-Toby stepped forward and to Tubb’s vast surprise pulled the latter
-swiftly to his feet. “Where’s that sweater?” he demanded. Tubb blinked,
-his mouth open for words that didn’t come. “Which is your closet?”
-continued Toby quickly. Tubb’s eyes shifted to the left and Toby pulled
-open a door, fumbled through the few garments hanging beyond it and
-pulled out a faded brown coat-sweater. “This isn’t the kind you want,
-but it’ll have to do,” he said briskly. He tossed it over his arm and
-threw back the door into the corridor. “All right! Beat it!”
-
-Tubb’s face expressed a queer mingling of resentment and relief. But
-even yet he managed to find objections. “Oh, what’s the good?” he
-growled. “I don’t want to play football, anyway. I don’t want――――”
-
-What he didn’t want was quickly changed to what he did want, for he
-found himself suddenly outside in the corridor, the door closed behind
-him and Toby’s firm, impelling clutch on his neck. “Wait! I want my
-hat!” he begged.
-
-“You don’t need a hat,” was the inexorable answer. “Go on! I tell you
-it’s getting late, and we’ve got to change yet. Hustle, G. W. Tubb!”
-
-Somewhat to Toby’s surprise, Tubb hustled. He tried to make a pretense
-of hanging back, but he nevertheless covered the ground between
-dormitory and gymnasium in very good time. The locker-room in the
-basement was fairly packed with First and Second Team candidates, and
-Toby was aware of an occasional curious glance, but for the most part
-the occupants of the room were too busy to pay attention to him or his
-charge. He found the old football trousers, borrowed a pair of shoes
-from one neighbor and stockings from a second, and presently Tubb,
-presenting a rather dilapidated appearance, was attired for business.
-He nevertheless looked, Toby thought, a bit more presentable in the
-battle-scarred togs than in the shapeless and wrinkled clothes he had
-removed. During the operation of dressing Tubb grumbled and sneered
-continuously, but he was no longer fooling Toby. It was plain to be
-seen that Tubb was really quite as anxious to get to the field as Toby
-was to have him!
-
-Several other newcomers reported that afternoon, and so Tubb was not
-alone as a tyro. Toby haled him at once to Sam Wansworth, the manager,
-and Tubb replied grumpily to the few stereotyped questions asked. Then
-practice was started and the two parted, Toby joining his usual squad
-and Tubb the bunch of latest recruits. It was an afternoon of good
-football weather, bright and crisp, with a straight breeze blowing down
-the field from the marshes across the glistening river. Beyond, on the
-First Team gridiron, a half-dozen punters and drop-kickers were busy
-in front of the north goal, and the pigskins arose and fell against
-the blue distance. Just above the boathouse the single occupant of a
-bright yellow canoe was struggling gamely against wind and tide, the
-sunlight flashing on the dripping paddle.
-
-Twenty minutes of passing and starting, and then Toby’s squad was
-trotted over to the tackling dummies and he had his first clutch at the
-moving, swaying canvas effigy. That his first clutch wasn’t a firm one
-is easily understood by those who have been through his experience.
-“Gyp” Harris was in charge, and Gyp wasn’t one to be easily satisfied.
-Working the rope that sent the dummy rattling along the cable between
-the posts with one hand, he used the other to point and gesticulate.
-Toby thought he had never seen any one more eloquent with one hand than
-the trainer! Not, however, that Gyp was dumb, or even tongue-tied. On
-the contrary, he had a strong voice and an effective vocabulary, and he
-kept both busy in a sort of sing-song fashion.
-
-“Next man! Feet together! Let ’er go! Off on the left! Get him! Hold
-him! Pull him down! Rotten, perfectly rotten! You tackled too high
-again! Next man!...”
-
-Occasionally there was pause while Gyp left the pulley and strode over
-to the head of the line and gave an illustration or criticized with
-ample detail some glaringly unfortunate attempt. “What have I told
-you about getting your body in front of the dummy, Bowen? Can’t you
-understand that when you tackle a runner from behind he’s going to drag
-you a way before you can stop him? Get in front of him so that your
-body blocks him. A man can’t push with his legs below the knees when
-he’s on his feet. Of course, you’re supposed to get to him hard enough
-to put him off his feet. But if he has slowed up to meet you your game
-is to lift him and throw him back toward his own goal. You can’t do
-that if you’re behind him because he will throw his weight forward. Get
-your body in front, lock his knees and lift. And don’t land on your
-stomach when you dive, Bowen. Land on your hip. See if you can’t get it
-right the next time.”
-
-Toby came to the conclusion that he was more than ordinarily stupid,
-but it is probable that he did as well as any of the others that first
-day. Presently they were dismissed, though not with the trainer’s
-blessing, and another squad took their place. Coach Burtis and Captain
-Beech had formed a tentative team of the more experienced or more
-likely candidates, and these were trotting around the field in signal
-work with Frick at quarter-back. Toby and three other fellows were sent
-across to the further side of the gridiron to catch punts, or, failing
-the catch, to recover them as best they could. At that game Toby found
-himself rather clever. He seemed able to judge the wobbling, descending
-balls with more certainty than his companions and to hold them better
-when they reached him. Having got a ball, he trotted back part way
-across and threw it the rest of the distance. He would have liked to
-punt it, but this was forbidden.
-
-Still later, he was set to taking snap-backs and passes from Watson,
-one of the candidates for center. He gathered that Watson had
-shown himself deficient in that branch of his play. It wasn’t very
-interesting work, for Watson was earnest and determined and erratic,
-and Toby spent half of his time chasing around after the pigskin. Once,
-taking passes from a distance of five yards and at an angle, or trying
-to, he became aware that some one was looking on and turned to discover
-Coach Burtis behind him. The coach nodded encouragingly. “Not bad,
-Tucker. Try to be a little more shifty on your feet, though. Keep on
-your toes, ready to go in any direction. In play it’s rather disastrous
-to let the ball get past you, you know.”
-
-He went on, leaving Toby surprised and gratified that he had remembered
-his name.
-
-There was no scrimmage to-day, and practice ended with a two-lap trot
-around the gridiron and then up to the gymnasium, where most of them
-arrived very much out of breath. During practice Toby had caught an
-occasional glimpse of Tubb looking harassed and mutinous, but it wasn’t
-until they met in the locker-room that Toby had an opportunity to speak
-to him. Tubb sank onto the bench with a grunt of weariness and disgust
-and savagely attacked the laces of his borrowed shoes. Toby, hiding a
-grin, asked pleasantly:
-
-“Well, how did it go, Tubb?”
-
-“Rotten! There’s no sense to that sort of stuff. I thought I was going
-to play football, not bean-bag!”
-
-“It is rather tiresome at first,” said Toby, “but you’ll soon be
-through with that. To-morrow――――”
-
-“Yes, I’m through with it right now,” growled Tubb. “I’ve had all I
-want, thanks, Tucker.”
-
-“Oh, piffle, Tubb! You’re not going to quit like that!”
-
-“Ain’t I? You watch me!” replied the other grimly.
-
-“Better give it a fair trial. After all, there’s a certain amount of
-drudgery to be gone through with, no matter what you take up. Learning
-to handle the ball is quite necessary, Tubb.”
-
-“A whole afternoon of it isn’t necessary, I guess. Anyway, I’m
-through.” Tubb kicked the shoes aside scowlingly. “I knew how it would
-be. A few fellows get all the pickings and the others play the goat.
-All you’ll get out of it, Tucker, is a lot of hard work, and then
-they’ll give you the bounce.”
-
-“What of it if I have a good time before they do?” asked Toby
-cheerfully.
-
-“A good time!” sneered the other.
-
-“Sure. Come on and have a shower and you’ll feel better, Tubb.”
-
-“I don’t want any shower,” muttered Tubb.
-
-“Well, I do. As a favor to me, I wish you’d keep on for the rest of
-this week, Tubb.” Toby spoke earnestly and smiled. Tubb caught the
-smile. After a moment he growled hesitantly:
-
-“Oh, well――I’ll see.”
-
-“Thanks. That’s a promise!”
-
-“’Tain’t either! I didn’t say――――”
-
-But Toby was off and Tubb’s protest went unfinished.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX
-
-YARDLEY PLAYS GREENBURG
-
-
-Two mornings later Toby again played tennis with Horace Ramsey. This
-time Horace captured the first set, mainly on his serve, and made Toby
-work hard to keep ahead in the second. Horace had followed Toby’s
-advice and had sought and found an opponent the day before, and he was
-fast reviving his enthusiasm for the game. Although it was perhaps only
-imagination, Toby thought that the younger boy already showed evidences
-of benefit from the exercise. To-day he made Horace promise to have Mr.
-Bendix, the physical director, give him a thorough examination, and on
-Saturday Horace reported the result of it.
-
-“I suppose he knows,” said Horace dubiously, “but it’s funny he didn’t
-say anything about my heart until I asked him.”
-
-“What did he say then?” inquired Toby.
-
-“Well, he said there was nothing the matter with it.” Horace was
-evidently thoroughly puzzled. “He said it was just as good as his.
-Maybe he didn’t want to frighten me, though. Do you think that’s it,
-Tucker?”
-
-“No, I don’t,” replied Toby bluntly. “I think he told the truth. If
-there ever was anything wrong with your heart you’ve outgrown it,
-Ramsey. Don’t worry about his trying to let you down easy. He wouldn’t.
-I know that he’s mighty careful about weak hearts. He’s kept lots of
-fellows out of track work and baseball just because of that trouble.
-No, sir, Ramsey, if ‘Muscles’ says your heart is all right, you may
-depend upon it that it is all right. How about your weight? Dropped any
-yet?”
-
-Horace’s brow cleared magically. “Haven’t I?” he exclaimed. “Two and a
-quarter pounds since I weighed Tuesday! How’s that?”
-
-“Fine――for a start,” answered Toby. “Keep it up. You’ve only begun!”
-
-Meanwhile, Tubb had kept on at football, although under constant
-protest. He had bought himself togs, and very good ones they were; a
-fact which led Toby to hope and believe that, in spite of his growls,
-Tubb really meant to keep on. Whenever they met, however, Tubb wearied
-Toby sadly with his grouches. He insisted on holding Toby responsible
-for every bruise and every tired muscle. While he didn’t say it in
-so many words, he made Toby understand that he had remained in the
-Second Team squad merely to oblige the other. A martyr is bad enough
-to have to listen to, but when the martyr has a grouch he is even more
-irritating. There were times when Toby would have given much for the
-privilege of kicking Tubb. But he didn’t. He didn’t even tell him to
-dry up and blow away. He kept his temper and listened to the boy’s
-growls without a murmur. Naturally, he didn’t seek Tubb’s society. In
-fact, whenever he could do so without having it seem too apparent, he
-avoided the pale-faced youth as he would have avoided any other pest.
-
-By that Saturday, however, the word pale-faced no longer applied to
-Tubb as it had a week before. Four very warm days such as frequently
-visit Connecticut around the first of October had brushed Tubb’s
-cheeks with red and set his nose to peeling. Perhaps the change hadn’t
-benefited the lad’s appearance much, but Toby noted it hopefully. Toby
-himself had added another shade of brown to a complexion already well
-sunburned by a summer spent largely on the water, and his blue eyes
-looked lighter than ever in comparison with the surrounding territory
-of mahogany hue.
-
-Something quite unlooked for and, to Toby, extremely disconcerting had
-happened the middle of that week. On Wednesday there had been a summons
-to quarter-back candidates to the lower end of the field for punting
-practice. Toby had remained serenely unaffected on the bench, whither
-he had retired after a strenuous bout with the tackling dummy, until he
-had been awakened by the challenge of Coach Burtis.
-
-“Where are you, Tucker? Didn’t you hear the call?” Mr. Burtis was a
-trifle incisive as to voice, for prompt obedience was something he
-insisted on. Toby, alarmed, jumped to his feet and looked wildly about
-him.
-
-“N-no, sir! What――where――――”
-
-“Well, hurry up.” The coach waved a hand toward the north goal.
-“Quarter-backs down there for punting.”
-
-Toby stared, opened his mouth, closed it, stood irresolute until Mr.
-Burtis asked sharply: “Well, what’s wrong? You’re trying for quarter,
-aren’t you?”
-
-“N-n――――” Toby gulped hard. “Yes, sir!”
-
-“Well, get busy then! Want me to lead you by the hand?”
-
-Toby found his feet and hurried away, pursued by the laughter of the
-others along the bench.
-
-“So I’m a quarter-back, am I?” he asked himself bewilderedly as he ran.
-“Gee, that’s a new one on me! Well, it’s fine to know what you are,
-even if you know you aren’t! I guess he will change his mind after he’s
-seen me try it!”
-
-There were four other fellows there when he reached the scene: Frick,
-Stair, Rawson, and Bird. Stillwell was coaching. Toby knew very
-little about punting as a science, although he could kick a football
-for varying distances from five yards to thirty――if he didn’t miss
-it altogether! There was very little actual punting that day, for
-Stillwell had a lot to say on the theory of it, and for the most part
-the pupils practiced holding the ball and dropping it, standing and
-stepping forward and swinging the leg. At the end Stillwell let them
-try a few punts, and Toby, for his part, hoped that Coach Burtis wasn’t
-watching! That evening he had a brand-new lot of aches situate in the
-right hip and down the right leg. “Stillwell,” he confided ruefully
-to Arnold, “thought he was coaching a bunch of ballet dancers. He was
-never happy unless we were standing on the left foot and pointing the
-right toe straight at the zenith, whatever the zenith is! I don’t feel
-happy on both feet, Arn. Mind if I tuck one over the transom?”
-
-“You’re mighty lucky to get a chance at quarter,” answered his chum
-severely. “Don’t you know that?”
-
-“Oh, yes,” said Toby, “I’m painfully aware of it!”
-
-By Saturday he had forgotten his aches and the lameness was gone and
-he could toe the pigskin in a fairly creditable manner and for decent
-distances, so long as direction was not important. But when he was told
-to place a punt near the right side line about thirty yards distant,
-either he sent it toward the left side line or down the middle of the
-field. Or if by any possible chance he got the direction right, then
-the ball went fifteen yards instead of thirty. There was, he allowed,
-a lot more to punting than he had suspected. Of course, life wasn’t
-all swinging a scuffed shoe against a stained and battered football
-those days. There was signal work, too. And some experimenting in
-forward passing. And other things. And Toby frequently regretted the
-fact that he had not dared to tell Coach Burtis the truth when he had
-been accused of quarter-back aspirations. Still, when things weren’t
-at their worst, he enjoyed it. No one took him seriously as a quarter,
-not even Grover Beech; and when scrimmaging began Frick and Rawson and
-Stair had the call over him. Only once that week had Toby worked at
-quarter, and then for only a matter of five minutes or so on B Squad.
-For many days he disliked to recall the event, for he had dared a
-quarter-back run and Farquhar, an opposing tackle, had chased him back
-and back until, in sheer fear of being forced over his own goal line,
-he had toppled to earth, snuggling the ball, a good fifteen yards back
-of where he had started from! It was a very sheepish Toby who scrambled
-to his feet again, for there was a ripple of laughter from the bench
-and many amused faces about him. For the few remaining moments of play
-he was too wretched to be of much use. Fortunately for him, perhaps,
-A Squad had the ball and Toby was able to retire up-field and nurse
-his wounded feelings in solitude. Afterwards he reached the pleasing
-conclusion that he was not necessarily dishonored for life, but it was
-some time before he cared to recall the incident.
-
-On Saturday practice was over early in order that the Second might
-profit by watching the First Team play Greenburg High School. High
-School wasn’t a formidable opponent even for a first game of the
-season. Yardley had started her schedule with High School for many
-years, generally winning by a comfortable margin of points. The contest
-served to try out a large number of players, and it was usually on the
-Monday following the Greenburg game that the first cut in the squad
-was made. In consequence to-day’s battle meant a good deal to some
-candidates who felt their positions to be none too secure, and there
-were many anxious faces amongst the substitutes who graced the bench
-after the game had started.
-
-Toby and the rest of the Second Team fellows didn’t reach the scene
-until the second period had begun. Then they perched themselves,
-still wrapped in their blankets like so many Indians, in the nearer
-corner of the old stand and proceeded to be extremely critical. Sid
-Creel squeezed into a place beside Toby with a huge sigh of enjoyment.
-“Nothing to do but watch a lot of poor boobs work themselves deaf,
-dumb, and blind,” he said with relish. “Who’s at center for them, Toby?”
-
-“Simpson.”
-
-“Well, he’s the best they’ve got, to my thinking. He’s light, though.”
-
-“Oh, well, his weight’s where it ought to be, Sid.”
-
-“Meaning?”
-
-“He’s got brains. So many centers haven’t, you know.”
-
-“Huh? ’S at so? Well, let me inform you――Oh, good work, Phil! How’s
-that for a neat little canter, Toby? More than twenty yards! What’s
-eating that referee? Oh, my word! Offside――no, holding! I didn’t see
-any holding, did you? That referee’s crazy!”
-
-“No, I didn’t see any holding unless you call it holding to nearly pull
-a fellow’s arm off him!”
-
-“Who did that?”
-
-“Ted Halliday.”
-
-“Idiot! Look what it’s cost them! Say, is Deering playing?”
-
-“No, that’s Bates at right half. And Roover at left. Arn will get in,
-of course. Maybe he’s been in. Mr. Lyle will use about every fellow
-he’s got to-day, I suppose.”
-
-“Yes, he’ll use a lot to-day and lose a lot to-morrow or Monday. Look
-at that line of victims over there. A good third of them will be
-missing next week.”
-
-“Yes, and some of them will be playing on the Second, Sid. I wouldn’t
-wonder if we got a good center pretty soon.”
-
-“Soon! we’ve got one right now. I don’t want to seem boastful,
-but――Gee, what a rotten punt! Who was that? Snowden, eh? Well, Larry
-wants to do better than that or he will lose his job! Gee, I could kick
-a ball farther than that myself!”
-
-Followed a Greenburg fumble, a quick recovery for a loss and a weird
-attempt at an end run almost under High School’s goal. Then a kick
-on second down and the ball floated into the waiting arms of Will
-Curran, the Yardley quarter, just past the center of the field. Curran
-was still the old Curran, it seemed, for he was off like a shot,
-side-stepped an adversary, broke through the nearer field of mingled
-friend and foe, and was off on a long, straight dash for the Greenburg
-goal. Toby and Sid cheered prodigiously as Curran fooled the anxious
-quarter and romped over the last white line between the posts. Snowden
-missed the goal and the figures on the score-board stood 11 to 0. The
-half ended a moment later and the big squad of blue-legged players
-trailed off to the gymnasium. Sid ambled off to find some fellow who
-had borrowed a dollar from him last spring, his round face set in
-determined lines, and a moment later George Tubb took the vacant place
-at Toby’s side.
-
-“Pretty punk game, isn’t it?” he said.
-
-Toby concealed his displeasure as best he could. “Well, it’s the first
-one, you know. Can’t expect much of a first game. How did you get on
-to-day?”
-
-“Pretty good.” Toby was actually startled. Never before had he heard
-Tubb approach so close to enthusiasm! Even the rest of his response
-couldn’t altogether spoil the first part. “I’m through to-day, though.
-I only agreed to keep on for the week, you know. Well, here’s your fat
-friend coming back, and I’ll beat it. So long, Tucker.”
-
-“So long,” answered Toby. To himself he added viciously, “I’d like to
-punch your silly head!”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X
-
-TOBY EMPTIES HIS LOCKER
-
-
-“The cheek of him!” exclaimed Sid, seating himself. “What do you think
-he asked me to do?”
-
-“Go away?” hazarded Toby.
-
-“Asked me to lend him another half! Said he’d pay it all back next
-Wednesday, when he gets his allowance. What do you know about that?
-That fellow’s got the makings of a financier!”
-
-“Or a grafter,” laughed Toby. Sid shook his head.
-
-“No, his method is too high-class. He will be a J. Pierpont Rockefeller
-at thirty. Well, anyway, I told him what I thought of him.”
-
-“Then you didn’t get your dollar, eh? Look here, if you’re hard-up,
-Sid, I can lend you――――”
-
-“No, thanks. I’m all right. I don’t need that dollar just now, but
-he’s been owing it since three days before the end of last term, and
-I thought it was time he paid it. That was all. Maybe he will on
-Wednesday. If he doesn’t I’ll land on his neck! Not that I care so much
-about the dollar and a half, but it’s the principle of the――――”
-
-“Dollar, you mean, don’t you?”
-
-“Dollar? Dollar and a half. He owed me a dollar before.”
-
-“Do you mean that you lent him the half?” exclaimed Toby incredulously.
-Sid looked surprised.
-
-“I told you, didn’t I? That’s what I was kicking about.”
-
-“But――but you didn’t have to lend him any more, did you?”
-
-“Have to? N-no, I didn’t _have_ to, but what are you going to do when
-a fellow comes at you like that? Oh, he will come across some day. I’m
-not worrying.”
-
-Toby laughed. “You’re easy, Sid,” he said. “I suppose next Wednesday he
-will borrow another fifty cents from you! If fellows were all like you
-I could be a Rockefeller myself! Here they come!”
-
-Yardley managed to chalk up twelve more points in the last two periods
-and to keep Greenburg High from scoring. Greenburg weakened badly
-toward the last, although, like her opponent, she made constant
-changes in her line-up. During the final period there were moments
-when the stream of incoming substitutes from the Yardley bench was
-almost unbroken. Mr. Lyle used three full elevens that afternoon, and
-then threw in a couple more players just for good measure. There were
-occasional flashes of brilliancy on the part of the Blue, but for
-the most part the contest was uninteresting and the playing ragged.
-Greenburg certainly deserved to lose, but it is doubtful if Yardley
-deserved to win. However, no one expected much from the team in that
-game, and no one was very critical.
-
-That evening, alone for awhile in Number 12, Arnold had gone to a
-lecture in Assembly Hall,――Toby forced himself to face a decision
-regarding football. Earlier in the week he had promised himself to
-quit to-day, but now he discovered that he didn’t want to quit. This
-quarter-back business was mighty interesting, he acknowledged. Not that
-he supposed for a minute that he would make good on the job: he would
-never get so that he could rival Frick; never, perhaps, equal Rawson;
-but a fellow needed some sort of exercise and football provided it. It
-was really his duty to keep himself in training for hockey.
-
-On the other hand, Latin was proving quite as difficult as he had
-predicted, and one or two other courses promised to claim lots of his
-time. If he really meant to win a scholarship next term he couldn’t
-afford too many distractions. It was easy enough to say that football
-work need not interfere with studies, but football work had a way of
-doing that very thing. It wasn’t so much the time spent in actual
-practice or play that counted as it was the time a fellow gave to
-thinking about football. The sport had a way of seizing a fellow’s
-interest to the exclusion of all else. And toward the end of the
-season, as the Big Game loomed near, it was just about as easy for a
-football player to give serious attention to his studies as it was for
-a boy with a new red sled to display enthusiasm for the woodpile! Toby
-had learned this solely from observation, but he knew it was so.
-
-Toby’s father was a boat-builder, and while the past season had seen
-a remarkable revival of the business, yet there were four of them in
-the family, and while business had increased so had living costs. It
-behooved Toby to get through the year as economically as possible,
-and a scholarship award of perhaps eighty dollars would make a big
-difference. He must do his level best to secure that. That decided,
-had he the right to give the necessary time to football? Especially
-as, after the Christmas recess, hockey would claim him. If it came to
-choosing between the two, he would choose hockey. Hockey was Toby’s
-game. He had proved himself in that. In football he might never become
-more than a second-rate player, or even a third. If he resolutely gave
-up football this minute and worked hard at his studies until Christmas,
-he wouldn’t have to worry about the time he gave to hockey. Hockey
-didn’t make the demands that football did, anyway. Well, then――――
-
-Toby frowned and thought, and made up his mind and unmade it several
-times, during the succeeding hour. Then Arnold came bustling in and
-what his final decision was Toby never knew. But when he awoke Sunday
-morning he discovered that his mind had attended to the matter by
-itself while he slept, and in the afternoon, returning from a walk with
-Arnold and Frank along the river, he excused himself and ran into the
-gymnasium and down to the locker-room. When he overtook his companions
-he carried an armful of football togs.
-
-“What――what――――” exclaimed Arnold.
-
-“I’ve decided not to play football, after all,” explained Toby calmly,
-“so I thought I might as well clear out my locker to-day. There aren’t
-enough of them to go around, you know.”
-
-“Oh, you make me tired!” wailed Arnold. “I thought that was all
-settled.”
-
-“It is, now,” responded Toby cheerfully.
-
-“But why?” demanded Arnold impatiently.
-
-Toby explained, but Arnold refused to be satisfied. Somewhat to Toby’s
-relief, Frank interrupted soothingly. “Let him alone, Arn. I guess
-he’s right about it. It isn’t as if――well, what I mean is, he’s not
-absolutely necessary, you know. It isn’t as if he was on the First
-Team. The Second’s got plenty of material, and Toby’s not fooling
-himself into thinking he’s a wonderful player. They’ll worry along
-without him. No use spoiling a good hockey man to make a――a――――”
-
-“Punk football man,” supplied Toby pleasantly. “You aren’t flattering,
-Frank, but I guess you’re right.”
-
-“No, he isn’t, he’s dead wrong,” said Arnold vehemently. “You could be
-a rattling good football player, Toby, a corking one! I know it! And
-now you’re queering everything. You make me sick. If you don’t dump
-those things back in that locker the first thing to-morrow morning
-I’ll――I’ll never forgive you, Toby!”
-
-“Oh, yes, you will,” said Toby. “You’re quite wrong about me as a
-football player, Arn. I’m pretty sure of that. Anyway, as Frank says,
-they don’t need me, and I do need that scholarship.”
-
-“I hope you choke on it,” growled Arnold disgustedly, and relapsed into
-aggrieved silence.
-
-But in spite of the certainty that he had decided wisely and rightly,
-Toby felt a trifle dissatisfied the next afternoon, and somewhat at
-a loose end. He determined to devote the first hour and a half after
-his final recitation to hard study, telling himself that he would
-have the room to himself and that Whitson would be delightfully quiet
-and conducive to work. Afterwards he would walk over and watch First
-Team practice for awhile. But, although he found the quietude and
-solitude he expected, it wasn’t so easy to put his mind on his books.
-The sunlit world outside called loudly, he couldn’t get comfortable
-in the chair and, in spite of good intentions, his mind insisted on
-wandering toward the gridiron. But he stuck it out to the prescribed
-moment and then fairly ran downstairs and into the late afternoon
-sunshine, uncomfortably conscious that he had spent an hour and a half
-to no purpose. Still, to-morrow he would do better, he promised. By
-the time he had seated himself in the grandstand, watching the First
-Team in a spirited practice game, he had recovered his spirits. On
-the further gridiron the Second was hard at it, but Toby decided to
-stay away from that quarter to-day. Grover Beech might say unpleasant
-things about “quitters,” and while Toby’s conscience was quite clear,
-he realized that the Second Team captain would have his own point of
-view. But although he managed to evade Beech for the time, a meeting
-was inevitable, and it occurred after supper that evening. They both
-left their tables at the same moment and came together at the door.
-Beech looked a trifle huffy.
-
-“What’s the stupendous idea, Tucker?” he demanded. “You know we
-practice on Mondays just like any other day.”
-
-“Why, I――Didn’t Gyp tell you?”
-
-“Gyp? Yes, he said something about your not reporting to-day, but that
-didn’t mean anything to me. What’s the scheme, old man?”
-
-Toby explained, not very eloquently because Beech’s expression became
-momentarily more and more disapproving. Once or twice the captain
-uttered a dry “Huh!” or gestured impatience, but he heard Toby through.
-Then, however, he broke out with force and emphasis. Toby, backed up
-against the long hatrack, was aware of the curious looks bent on him by
-those who passed, and even read sympathy in some glances. Doubtless
-Beech’s attitude looked rather threatening!
-
-“You poor fish!” said the captain pityingly. “Hasn’t any one ever
-told you about duty? What do you think you are, anyway? A――a real,
-sure-enough Person? You’re not, Tucker my lad, you’re just a simple
-little cog in the Wheel of Progress. You’re not at all important as an
-individual. You’re merely an entity. Now――――”
-
-“Hold on! I’m not sure I ought to let you call me that!”
-
-“Shut up! I’ll call you worse in a minute, maybe a microbe or a
-protoplasm. Look here, Tucker, joking aside, you can’t do this, you
-know. Every fellow has a duty to the School――――”
-
-“I know, and every fellow has a duty to himself, Beech. I need that
-scholarship――――”
-
-“Get it! I’m not objecting, my son! But don’t throw the team down to
-do it. Shucks, you can play football for a month or six weeks longer
-without losing the scholarship! Come on, Tucker, don’t be a worm!”
-
-“But――but what difference does it make?” pleaded Toby. “I’m no football
-wonder. You’ve got half a dozen fellows to fill in for me. It isn’t
-like I was any account, Beech!”
-
-“What are you doing? Fishing for compliments? Come on and quit your
-kidding! Do you suppose Burtis would have put you with the quarters if
-he hadn’t seen that you had the stuff in you?”
-
-“But I haven’t! I can’t play quarter-back for a cent, Beech, honest!
-Besides, there’s Frick and Rawson and Stair――――”
-
-“Listen, Tucker, I know who we’ve got just as well as you do. Those
-fellows are all right, but not one of them has any better chance of
-copping the job than you have. And we want the best fellow to get it.
-So you come on back to-morrow, Tucker my lad, and be properly ashamed
-of yourself. And don’t let’s have any more talk about scholarships and
-things. If you can’t play a little football and keep your end up in
-classes you’re less of a man than I thought you were. And that’s that!”
-
-“Well, I’ll see,” answered Toby dubiously. “It’s all well enough――――”
-
-“You’ll see nothing,” said Beech sternly. “You’ll be on the field
-to-morrow at three-fifteen dressed to play. By the way, where’d you get
-hold of that chap Tubbs?”
-
-“Why, I just happened to run across him. He was having sort of a poor
-time of it and I thought if I could get him interested in something he
-might pull himself together.” Toby was rather apologetic. “He didn’t
-want to do it and I was afraid he wouldn’t stick it long.”
-
-“How do you mean, wouldn’t stick it?”
-
-“Why, he’s quit, hasn’t he? He told me Saturday he was going to.”
-
-“He was out to-day all right. Shucks, he isn’t going to quit. He’s
-stringing you. He’s liking it well enough now, and unless I miss my
-guess he’s going to make a few of our bunch sit up and take notice. The
-boy’s a natural-born end! Well, see you to-morrow, old man. So long!”
-
-George Tubb a “natural-born end”! Toby forgot for the moment the
-complication just introduced into his own affairs in surprise over
-Beech’s appraisal of Tubb. That the latter would make good on the
-gridiron Toby had never for an instant believed. He had only hoped that
-the dissatisfied youth would find in football a new and sufficient
-interest to reconcile him to the school and, perhaps, a means of making
-friends. Well, he was certainly quite as pleased as he was surprised!
-In view of what Beech had just told him, however, he wondered why
-Tubb had threatened only two days ago to quit; and, still wondering,
-he kept on to the third floor instead of stopping at the second and
-knocked at the door of Number 31.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI
-
-TOM FANNING, OPTIMIST
-
-
-Only Horace Ramsey was at home when Toby entered Number 31. Ramsey
-appeared very glad to see the visitor, and he was quite fussed-up
-during the process of getting Toby comfortably seated. The room was
-one of the better ones on the third floor, and one of the occupants,
-probably Ramsey, had added to the scanty equipment supplied by the
-school. Although the evening had turned decidedly cool, both windows
-were wide open, and it was not until Toby had glanced at them a bit
-uneasily several times that Ramsey took the hint.
-
-“It is sort of cold in here, I guess,” he said, as he closed the
-windows. “I’m used to a cold room, though. Plenty of fresh air is what
-I like. Mr. Bendix says you can’t have too much of it. George doesn’t
-like it much, though, and we scrap a good deal about having the windows
-open.”
-
-“George? Oh, you mean Tubb. How are you and he getting on now? Hitting
-it off any better?”
-
-Horace Ramsey smiled. “Oh, yes, we get on all right. He’s a cranky
-chap, though. I have to handle him carefully. He gets the most awful
-grouches you ever saw. Gets positively ugly and hates himself. Still,
-he’s been some better the last few days.” Ramsey chuckled. “Guess I
-have, too. At first I used to let go of my temper and――well, you found
-us at it one night. Remember? Now I just let him growl and he gets over
-it after a bit. He’s really not a bad sort when you get to know him.”
-
-“I thought I might find him in,” explained Toby. Then a faint
-expression of disappointment on the other’s face made him add: “And
-then I wanted to see how you were getting on, too, Ramsey. You’re
-looking pretty fit. Been playing much tennis?”
-
-“Every day. A fellow named Lingard, a Fourth Class fellow, and I have
-been at it a lot. Don’t know if you know him, Tucker. Sort of a lanky
-chap, with――――”
-
-“Yes, I know Tommy. Didn’t know he was a tennis player, though.”
-
-“He isn’t,” laughed Ramsey. “At least, not much of one. But neither
-am I just now, and I sort of like to play with a chap I can lick now
-and then. Maybe it isn’t good practice, though. There’s a fellow
-named Colcord who gave me a couple of sets this afternoon. He’s pretty
-good at it. Beat me both sets, 6 to 3. I’d like to take you on again,
-Tucker. I guess I could give you a better fight now that I’ve had some
-practice. Mr. Bendix says it’ll take several weeks to get my muscles
-loosened up.”
-
-“I dare say. Had much trouble with your heart lately?”
-
-“N-no, very little. I get out of breath pretty easily, but Mr. Bendix
-says that’s because I’m carrying too much weight. Maybe my heart’s all
-right after all, just as he says it is. He sort of――what I mean is, you
-can’t help believing what he says, can you? He’s supposed to know a
-lot about physical training and――and all that, isn’t he?” Toby nodded
-assent. “I like him a lot, anyway, and I’m doing just what he tells me,
-even to nearly freezing in here with the windows open.”
-
-Toby laughed. “Thought you said you were used to cold rooms, Ramsey!”
-
-“Well, I――I meant I was getting used to them,” answered the other,
-grinning.
-
-“Tubb is still with the Second Team, I hear,” said Toby.
-
-“Yes. That reminds me! He was quite excited this afternoon because you
-weren’t on the field. Don’t know what business it is of his, but he
-kept chewing the rag about it.”
-
-“No, I――I cut practice to-day. Fact is, I――――” Then he stopped. He had
-been about to add that he was through with football for the season, but
-he suddenly realized that it wasn’t true, that to-morrow would find him
-back again. “How’s Tubb getting on?” he asked instead.
-
-“Oh, pretty well, I guess. He hasn’t said so, but when he doesn’t growl
-about a thing I know it’s all right. Last week he kept telling how hard
-they made him work and saying he was going to quit, but he’s shut up
-about it lately.”
-
-A few minutes afterward, going down to the floor below, Toby shook
-his head dubiously. “It’s funny the way I make up my mind to things
-lately without knowing it. When I went upstairs I thought I was going
-to be firm with Beech and stay out of it. Then, first thing I knew, I’d
-decided to keep on! Wonder if there’s something wrong with my bean!”
-
-Back in Number 12, Toby found a scrawl from Arnold bidding him follow
-to Frank’s room in Clarke, but he crumpled it up and, after a moment’s
-reflection, dropped it in the waste-basket and settled himself at
-the table. He got in some good licks of study that evening and was
-annoyingly superior and virtuous when Arnold returned at bedtime.
-
-The next afternoon Toby took his togs back to the gymnasium.
-Fortunately, although he had given up his locker, no one had secured
-it. If Coach Burtis knew of his defection the day before he made no
-sign. Grover Beech, however, nodded commendingly, and, or so Toby
-thought, Roy Frick, at present the most promising of the quarter-backs,
-viewed his return with a noticeable lack of cordiality. For several
-afternoons Toby toiled and drudged willingly and contentedly. Mr.
-Burtis was allowing but three scrimmages a week, and in none of them
-did Toby appear. The fact puzzled the boy considerably, but he kept
-his puzzlement to himself. Even Bird, who could not be considered
-first-class quarter-back material by any stretch of imagination, got
-in for a few minutes in each practice game. Toby invariably retired
-to the bench when the line-up came and, blanket-swathed, watched and
-wondered throughout the ten or fifteen minute periods. On one such
-occasion he found a seat beside George Tubb. He and George had met
-and spoken before, but only briefly. To-day Toby viewed George with
-real surprise. Seen at close quarters, the younger fellow showed the
-results of a week of football work very plainly. He had a much better
-color, looked several pounds thinner――and considerably harder――and had
-lost some of the discontent usually so eloquently expressed by his
-countenance. But there was plenty of the old George W. Tubb left, as
-Toby soon discovered.
-
-“They’ve got me playing end,” said George. “It’s a rotten position. I
-told that big guy with the swelled head that I wanted――――”
-
-“Meaning the coach?” asked Toby.
-
-“Sure! I told him I was a half-back, but he thinks he knows it all.”
-
-“Too bad,” commented Toby innocently, “because, of course, a fellow
-can’t do good work out of his right position. I suppose you’re making
-rather a mess of end, Tubb.”
-
-“Who says that?” demanded George, with a scowl.
-
-“Why, no one. I just thought, from what you said――――”
-
-“Well, I guess I’m doing as well as Connell; and he’s been playing two
-years at it. But this business doesn’t get a fellow anywhere. What’s it
-amount to, anyway? They say we’ll play a couple of dozen games with
-the First and run up against two or three bum teams around here, and
-then it’s all over, and the First Team gets the glory. Maybe I’ll stick
-it out awhile longer, but life’s too short to spend a month and a half
-at this sort of stuff.”
-
-He glanced sidewise at Toby as he finished, and Toby caught the glance
-and understood. George had no intention of quitting, and never had had
-since the first day! What he wanted was Toby to ask him not to! Toby
-suppressed a smile.
-
-“I wouldn’t do that, Tubb,” he said earnestly. “I――I wish you wouldn’t.
-You see, I have a hunch that you’ve got in you to make a pretty good
-player, and――well, I wish you’d give yourself a fair chance. As a favor
-to me, Tubb, I wish you’d try to stick it out.”
-
-George growled and scowled, but Toby didn’t miss the look of
-satisfaction that flickered for an instant in his eyes. After a moment
-of weighty hesitation George sighed wearily. “Well, I guess another
-week or two won’t hurt me,” he said ungraciously. “I’ll stick around
-until I get Connell’s number, anyway. You got me into this, Tucker,
-and――――” George stopped abruptly, leaped to his feet and dropped his
-blanket. “I’ve got to go in! See you later!”
-
-Then he legged it to where Coach Burtis was beckoning, leaving Toby
-grinning broadly. “He’s just the biggest kind of a kid,” thought Toby.
-“Wants friendship and hasn’t the slightest idea how to get it!”
-
-But if Toby was allowed no opportunity to achieve glory that week,
-at least none begrudged him hard work. He was allowed to labor to
-his heart’s content. Nay, he was urged to! Coach Burtis seemed to be
-distinctly unhappy if Toby happened on a moment’s idleness during
-practice time, and he or Captain Beech was forever at hand to suggest
-a new activity. Toby got to hate the tackling dummy with a deep and
-bitter hatred. He told Arnold he couldn’t enjoy his meals any longer
-because his mouth was always filled with dirt. Arnold advised him to
-close his mouth when he did his tackling.
-
-For the First Team, on which Arnold was alternating with Bates at
-right half-back, life had become real and earnest. Coach Lyle had made
-a wholesale cut in the squad and fellows who were “up” in football
-affairs professed themselves already able to tell you what the line-up
-would be in the final game of the season with Broadwood. And a good
-many did tell――if you’d listen. Frank Lamson was also trying for a
-half-back position, but Frank’s chances were not considered brilliant.
-At least, though, he survived the cut, and when, on Saturday, the team
-played its second game, with Tyron School, Frank displaced Roover in
-the last quarter and sent his stock up tremendously by a slashing
-fourteen-yard run that netted Yardley’s last score. Toby saw the final
-half of the game from the bleachers and yelled like a Comanche when
-Frank fairly smashed his way through the Tyron backs and went over the
-line near the corner of the field with two of the enemy clinging to
-him like limpets. Yardley’s work showed the effect of a week’s hard
-practice and some indication of promise. Teamwork was totally lacking,
-however, and it was individual brilliancy that ran the score up to 29
-points. Curran, at quarter-back, and Noyes, who substituted for him,
-handled the team well. On the whole, although Tyron had managed to
-secure 6 points by two easy field-goals, Yardley Hall was satisfied
-with her team’s showing, and felt that there was reason to expect a
-successful season. As, however, October was still but a few days old,
-the conclusion may have been a trifle premature.
-
-Captain Fanning, naturally optimistic, viewed the future very
-cheerfully indeed that evening. He was a tall, fine-looking chap, was
-Tom, and immensely popular. If he had any discernible fault it was
-that popularity meant a little too much to him, that he was a bit too
-dependent on the goodwill of his fellows. Criticism didn’t agree with
-Tom. It didn’t make him angry, but it hurt his feelings. On the other
-hand, praise was meat and drink to him, and if you wanted to hear him
-purr you had only to stroke him. But every one liked him, the juniors
-in Merle Hall, the First Class fellows in Dudley and the faculty
-members as well. And he was a really remarkable football player, as
-he had proved last season. His more ardent admirers went so far as to
-believe that so long as Tom Fanning played left tackle it didn’t matter
-much who else was on that side of center. Like most brilliant players,
-though, he was better offensively than defensively. As a captain Tom
-had yet to be proved, for neither personal popularity nor individual
-ability necessarily insures leadership. Tom believed very thoroughly in
-himself, however, and if any one held doubts as to his fitness for the
-captaincy that person was not Tom.
-
-To-night, tilted back in a chair against Toby’s bed, his long legs
-stretched before him, his hands in his trousers pockets, and a
-contented smile on his good-looking countenance, Tom was doing his own
-stroking. “Really, Arnold,” he was saying, “we’ve got a ripping lot
-of fellows this year, now haven’t we? Take the line from end to end,
-you can’t beat it! I don’t care whether Candee or Orlie Simpson plays
-center or whether Jim Rose or Twining plays left guard. Any way you
-look at it it’s a corking line. That’s the beauty of having really good
-substitutes. As for the back-field, why, with you and Larry and Roover
-and Curran――or Noyes, for that matter――there won’t be a better one in
-this corner of the world this fall!”
-
-“Say, Tom, how do you get that way?” asked Arnold, who was struggling
-into a clean collar. “The team’s all right, old dear, but we haven’t
-won the Broadwood game quite yet. To listen to you a fellow would think
-we’d just hung the ball in the Trophy Room!”
-
-Tom laughed good-naturedly. “Well, I’ve picked out a place for it, Arn!
-Oh, we’ll have our little setbacks and we’ll lose a game or two one way
-or another, but that isn’t troubling me any. Why――――”
-
-“All right, but don’t talk like that so the fellows can hear you,”
-protested Arnold, more than half serious. “The worst thing that can
-happen to a team is for it to get the happy, confident feeling.
-Just as soon as it does it gets a silly grin on its face――or faces,
-rather――and dies in its tracks. I’d like it better if you’d cultivate a
-fine grouch, Tom.”
-
-“Maybe I shall later, but you can’t make me grouchy to-night. I tell
-you, Arn, we showed what we had to-day. Take the team as it played this
-afternoon and teach it to work together and you’ve got a real machine,
-son. And Broadwood’ll know it some day!”
-
-“I know. We have got some good players, and that’s no dream, but just
-at present it’s too much of an all-star aggregation to make a hit with
-me. There’s a heap of work ahead of us, old dear, before we get to be a
-real football team, and don’t you forget that for a little minute!”
-
-“Oh, you’re a regular Calamity Jane,” jeered Tom. “Come on, or we’ll be
-late. Where’s Tucker? Isn’t he coming?”
-
-“Yes, he will be here in a minute, I guess. And Frank’s going, too.”
-
-“Lamson?” Tom’s brow clouded for an instant. “Say, Arn, he made a nifty
-touchdown to-day, didn’t he?”
-
-“I thought so. But you needn’t cry about it.”
-
-“I’m not. I was only wondering――You know, to my mind, Morris Roover’s
-the right chap there, Arn. Now suppose Lamson keeps on as he did this
-afternoon, eh?”
-
-“Why, he will get the place, won’t he? You want the best man there,
-don’t you?”
-
-“Rather! But Roover’s tried pretty hard for it. I mean, I’d be sorry
-if he lost out. He had hard luck last fall, you know. Got sick in the
-middle of the season and didn’t even get his letter. I suppose he’s
-hoping to make good this year.”
-
-“What of it? He’s got another year after this. The trouble with you,
-Tom, is that you can’t forget your friendships on the gridiron. It
-won’t do, believe me. Friendship ceases at three-fifteen, or it ought
-to, when you’re captain. If it wasn’t for Mr. Lyle you’d have Sim
-Clarke playing end and Snow at guard and――and all the rest of your
-cronies――including me――on the team, and it would be a bum outfit.
-Friendship’s no good when it comes to picking a team, Tom.”
-
-“Nonsense!” retorted the other. He didn’t seem displeased, though. “Of
-course I’d like to have my friends on the team; any fellow would; but
-they won’t get any favoritism from me.”
-
-“Oh, no, none at all!” answered Arnold, buttoning his vest. “Look
-here, old dear, if I ever suspect that you’re trying to put me across
-because I’m a friend I’ll quit the team cold!”
-
-“Oh, rot! You know perfectly well that you and Bates are the best we
-have for the position, and as far as I’m concerned I don’t care which
-of you gets it.”
-
-“Stick to that and all will be well! What time have you got? I wonder
-what’s happened to Frank and――――”
-
-Toby’s appearance interrupted him and a minute later they were on their
-way, picking up Frank Lamson outside. They were going to the movies in
-Greenburg, the larger town across the river. There was a small moving
-picture theater in Wissining, no more than half a mile from school,
-that was well patronized by Yardley, but in Greenburg there were three
-of them to choose from, and to-night the boys had secured leave for the
-whole evening and so had plenty of time to make the longer journey.
-Besides, at Greenburg you got two pictures and listened to real music
-from an organ, while at the local house your entertainment was over in
-an hour and the piano was very tin-panny. Tom Fanning ranged beside
-Toby on the way down the hill and Arnold and Frank followed. Tom was
-still full of football and optimism, and Toby heard a good deal about
-the team’s wonderful prospects and didn’t have to do any of the
-talking. By the time the bridge was reached, however, Tom had worked
-off some of his enthusiasm and inquired about Toby’s fortunes.
-
-“Arn says he finally persuaded you to try for the Second,” he said.
-“Like it?”
-
-“Yes, I like it very well,” answered Toby. “Only I can’t seem to take
-it as seriously as most of the fellows. Ought I to, Fanning? What I
-mean is, just how important is playing football on the Second Team? I
-wanted to quit last week and Arnold had a fit and Grover Beech read the
-riot act to me. I thought football, especially Second Team football,
-was a lark, but I’m beginning to think that it’s not!”
-
-“Well, I suppose we do take football rather too seriously,” replied Tom
-leniently. “But, hang it, Tucker, if you’re going to do a thing why not
-do it well? Why not put your whole heart into it? Of course, the Second
-Team isn’t as important as the First, but it’s just as well for the
-fellows who play on it to think it is. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t
-work so hard and we wouldn’t turn out such a good Second Team. And,
-after all, a good Second is important, because it gives us practice.”
-
-“When do you begin playing us?” asked Toby.
-
-“Next week. Tuesday, probably. What are you trying for?”
-
-“Quarter. Sounds conceited, doesn’t it?”
-
-“Not a bit! Why? A quarter-back isn’t any better than a guard or an
-end, is he? It takes just as much ability to play one position well as
-it does another.”
-
-“Y-yes, I suppose so, but――it seems to me a fellow’s got to know a
-whole lot in order to run the team right.”
-
-“Oh, yes, he has. But it comes down to knowing a few plays and when
-to call for them, and remembering your signals. After all, it’s the
-captain that’s the general. Half the time a quarter doesn’t get much
-chance to boss the thing. The coach maps the game out beforehand, the
-captain holds the reins and the quarter-back does the yelling.” Tom
-laughed. “Anyway, that’s pretty close to it, Tucker.”
-
-“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Toby said in relieved tones. “I was sort
-of scared, you see; thought I might have to run the whole business if
-I happened to get put in some time. I’d make rather a mess of it if I
-did, I guess!”
-
-“Not you, Tucker. You’re rather the type to make good, I’d say. I hope
-you get the place.”
-
-“Thanks,” answered Toby, dubiously. “You mean kindly, no doubt, but I
-guess I’d just as lief some one else got it. Frick has it now and I
-dare say he will keep it. He will so far as I’m concerned!”
-
-“You don’t seem to have a very high notion of your ability,” laughed
-Tom. “Don’t be too humble, Tucker, or folks will begin to think the way
-you talk. And, look here, there’ll be a chance for you on the First
-next year, for both Curran and Noyes will be gone, and the rest of the
-lot aren’t very promising. So just you keep going, Tucker.”
-
-“Oh, I’ll keep going all right,” replied Toby sadly. “They won’t let me
-do anything else. They’re always picking on me.”
-
-“Who?”
-
-“Mr. Burtis and Beech. They sit up together until daylight finding
-stunts for me to do the next day!”
-
-“Sounds to me,” said Tom thoughtfully, “as if you were better than you
-make yourself out, old man. Or else you imagine things.”
-
-“Let’s say the last guess is right,” laughed Toby.
-
-They visited two theaters before they found one whose bill promised
-the sort of entertainment they wanted, and found seats just before the
-house darkened. During the announcement of coming attractions some one
-tapped Toby on the shoulder and he looked around in the half-gloom and
-saw Horace Ramsey seated behind him in company with George Tubb. Horace
-was evidently pleased when Toby recognized him and spoke to him, but
-George’s only response to Toby’s whispered greeting was a nod and a
-scowl.
-
-Going homeward, two hours later, the quartet grew to a round dozen
-as other Yardley boys joined it, and Arnold observed that maybe it
-was just as well there were plenty of them as the “town thugs,” as he
-called them, had been getting “fresh” lately. “Casement and another
-chap were coming back the other night and got into a fine old scrap
-with a gang of the toughs,” he explained. “They had to beat it finally.
-Loring got a beautiful black eye out of it. He says there were four of
-them against him and the other chap. Hence the retreat.”
-
-“That’s something new, isn’t it?” asked a boy on the other side of
-Arnold. “We never used to have any trouble with the town fellows.”
-
-“They’re chaps from the new mill they built last year, I believe.
-Rather a tough lot, I guess. They’ll get all they want, though, if they
-keep on. Wouldn’t be a bad thing for some of them to turn up now and
-try to start something,” Arnold chuckled. “They won’t, though, when
-they see the size of our party.” And, although their progress out of
-Greenburg was anything but quiet, none disputed their way.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII
-
-FIRST TEAM VS. SECOND
-
-
-The Second Team started its training table Monday. The First had done
-so a week earlier. The tables, each accommodating eighteen persons,
-occupied the two farther corners of the dining-hall. That of the First
-Team was given a certain degree of privacy by two oak screens similar
-to the one that stood before the door leading to the pantry, but the
-Second Team consumed its meals in full view of the world. Joining
-the training table, Toby discovered, added no luxuries to your menu.
-Rather, it did quite otherwise, for pastry and puddings, save for one
-or two very simple concoctions, were sternly barred. You got rather
-more beef and lamb――too underdone to please Toby――and eggs were a drug
-on the market. Potatoes were served sparingly and only in the baked
-condition. On the whole, there was a notable monotony to the training
-table fare, but as the fellows were generally extremely hungry that
-didn’t trouble them greatly.
-
-Toby’s presence at the Second Team board was somewhat of a surprise to
-Toby, since, as there were places for only seventeen players,――Coach
-Burtis sat at the head of the table,――it seemed to him that he was
-displacing more deserving talent. Why he should be there and Stair and
-Bird not there, was a conundrum, a conundrum that was partly answered
-for him that Monday afternoon.
-
-“You’re on B Team, Tucker,” announced Mr. Burtis when, at four o’clock,
-the players were called back to the bench. “Show me what you’ve learned
-the last week. You’ll have Lippman at half and I want you to use him
-whenever you can. Play him hard. He will stand it. And don’t neglect
-your kicking game just because your punters aren’t the best. The only
-way for them to learn is to have it to do. Keep to simple plays; B Team
-doesn’t know anything complicated; and speed it up all you know how.”
-
-“Y-yes, sir,” agreed Toby. Then he shed his blanket and wondered
-whether he had learned anything the last week, and if he had what it
-was! However, it wouldn’t do to let either the coach or the players
-guess the trepidation he felt, and so he pulled on his head-guard
-quite snappily and limbered up his legs, as, he judged, was the
-approved thing to do, and looked as smiling and care-free as possible.
-Then the two teams trotted out, A with the ball, and Gyp blew a whistle
-and his troubles had begun.
-
-But, after all, the troubles weren’t so many, nor so formidable. He
-made mistakes, and he shared in a perfectly ghastly fumble on A’s
-twenty-six yards, and twice he got his signals so badly mixed that
-the whole team howled at him. But, on the other hand, he put vim into
-his fellows and followed the coach’s directions regarding Lippman and
-the kicking game and the use of simple plays, and before the period
-had ended he had the exquisite pleasure of watching the pigskin skin
-the enemy’s cross-bar for a three-point tally. He could have wept
-tears of joy on Crawford’s neck for that thirty-yard drop-kick, and A
-Team’s sullen resentment was an added delight. But B had to pay for
-her cheekiness. Already A had scored a touchdown, and now, bitterly
-resentful, she set to work to wreak vengeance. And she did it finally,
-for three long runs by Nelson and White took the ball back to B’s
-thirty-five yards and White plugged along for another down through
-a crumbling right side in spite of Toby’s shrill exhortations, and
-Stover banged into Sid Creel, at center, and piled through to the
-eighteen. Toby was very glad when time was called for Sid’s recovery,
-for B was on the run and becoming more disorganized each moment. He
-spent a precious two minutes ranging the line and “talking Dutch,” and
-when Sid, looking vague and dizzy, shuffled into his position again
-there was a perceptible stiffening of the defense. But it couldn’t
-last against A’s battering-ram tactics, and presently it was crumbling
-again. Short gains but steady, and B was on her last white line, and it
-was second down and every one was shouting or grunting. Toby gritted
-his teeth and danced about and hurled defiance across the bent backs
-before him, all the time trying with the intensity of despair to
-guess the play that was coming. He did guess, but he guessed wrong,
-and Nelson shot unexpectedly outside right tackle, straight for the
-center of the goal, and the only satisfaction Toby got was in sitting
-on Nelson’s head after he had been pulled down by Crawford. Bowen
-grinned miserably, and every B Team fellow was very, very careful not
-so much as to look at him; for Bowen was right tackle and had been most
-ingloriously eliminated. After that the horn squawked and the half was
-over.
-
-Toby and several others who had played through the whole twelve minutes
-were dismissed to the showers, although all would have preferred
-staying and watching the second half. Instead, they argued hotly
-all the way up to the gymnasium――the two teams being very equally
-represented――and still argued, though with diminished heat, while
-the showers hissed. Toby was secretly rather well satisfied with his
-performance that afternoon until, later, he learned that B Team, under
-Roy Frick’s generalship, had actually scored a touchdown in the last
-period of play!
-
-On Tuesday, after a half-hour of light practice, the Second trotted
-over to the First Team field and, before a large and interested
-audience, was badly mauled and beaten. Frick and Rawson played quarter
-through two twelve-minute halves, and Toby and Stair――Bird, it seemed,
-had retired to private life――sat on the bench and watched and worried,
-trying to believe that things would have gone no better for the Second
-if they had taken part. Second used most of her substitutes in a vain
-effort to stave off, not defeat, for that was inevitable, but dishonor,
-and could make nothing of it. First Team piled up the scores with
-a merciless and monotonous succession and the audience yawned and
-drifted away.
-
-“What’s that?” asked Lou Stair drearily. “Twenty-three?”
-
-“Twenty-six,” answered Toby glumly.
-
-“Gee-jiminy-gosh!” groaned Stair. “Say, what’s the matter with the
-Second, anyway? What’s got into ’em, Tucker! Look at Smith, will you?
-Why doesn’t he get down? Why doesn’t Frick get after him? He thinks
-he’s a skyscraper! And there goes Dawson off-side again! Gee, our bunch
-is playing like sand-lot kids! Well, he got away with it, and that’s
-something!”
-
-“What of it?” asked Toby dully. “We didn’t make enough to plant a row
-of beans on! That’s third. White’ll have to punt.”
-
-“Yeah, as much as ten yards!” jeered Stair. “What’d I tell you? Guess
-he’s got a friend on the side-line, the way he kicked the ball there!
-Well, here’s where First scores again!”
-
-And presently First did that very thing, Toby’s gloom being slightly
-relieved by the fact that it was Arnold who took the ball over by a
-slashing run from the Second’s eighteen yards. Gloom enveloped the
-whole blanketed line of watchers that second half, for they had been
-doing a good deal of talking as to what was to happen to the First
-Team when they tried conclusions. In fact, Second had even gone so far
-as to hint that the real reason Coach Lyle hadn’t let his team face the
-Second before was his fear of a disastrous defeat. Toby wondered how
-Coach Burtis, pacing tranquilly to and fro along the side-line, his
-hands buried in his trousers pockets, could maintain his expression of
-unconcern in the face of such direful happenings! Toby would have felt
-a heap better if Mr. Burtis had scowled or kicked at a pebble or shown
-distress in some other manner. The coach’s unruffled demeanor seemed to
-Toby to smack of treason! He was very glad when that farcical game came
-to an end with a final score of 33 to 0.
-
-Second, fagged, disheveled, outraged, climbed a weary path to the
-gymnasium, muttering threats of vengeance; hearing which Coach Burtis
-smiled a secret smile of satisfaction. Toby felt quite disgraced until
-the lapse of an hour or two brought a realization of the fact that such
-things had happened before and would happen again, and that no one took
-them very seriously. At supper Mr. Burtis ate quite as much as usual
-and with as much enjoyment, and talked and jested in his accustomed
-manner; which encouraged Toby to satisfy a really ravenous hunger.
-After a steak and a baked potato and the usual trimmings he found that
-he could view the afternoon’s Waterloo with equanimity. There was, he
-reflected, another day coming!
-
-Wednesday found Toby learning A Team signals, his allegiance
-transferred to that squad by order of the coach. In the scrimmage
-Rawson led B Team and Toby adorned the bench until near the end of
-the second half. Then Frick came out and Toby went in and received an
-evil and portentous wink from Sid Creel. That wink said very plainly:
-“You wait till I get at you, you renegade!” Just at first it was a bit
-disconcerting to find himself slamming into his former teammates and
-to realize that they not only no longer loved him but were eager to
-grind his face in the earth and otherwise degrade him! Before the game
-was over, though, he had very effectually forgotten the old ties and
-was glorying in every foot of territory conquered by A Team. It was
-remarkable what a healthy antagonism existed between the two squads.
-Before the scrimmage they were all Second Team fellows, and afterwards,
-in the locker-room, they fraternized nicely, but while the game lasted
-they were enemies and aliens, and neither side asked quarter. Toby,
-during a busy six or seven minutes of play that afternoon, was rather
-rudely handled by his former comrades, and made his way up the hill
-with a ruddy nose and several assorted contusions. But he had the
-satisfaction of a touchdown and a brief word of commendation from Coach
-Burtis; and nothing else much mattered.
-
-Thursday they went against the First again and, while they were once
-more decisively trimmed, they made a far better showing. Toby got
-in for the whole of the second half and, after recovering from a
-bad attack of stage fright, gave a fairly good account of himself.
-Toby wasn’t one to seek personal glory, and there were times when he
-might have taken the ball himself and didn’t. He did get off one good
-twenty-yard sprint with the pigskin clasped in the cradle of his elbow,
-and got a hearty thump on his back from Arnold as he trotted by that
-member of the enemy forces and a rousing acclaim from the stands. But
-for the rest Toby stayed modestly in position, letting Nelson and White
-and, less frequently, Stover, perform the back-field stunts――or try to.
-First Team was fast rounding into a hard-working, aggressive, snappy
-organization, and facing her was no child’s play. That the Second held
-her to four scores that day, and credited herself with a field-goal,
-speaks well for Coach Burtis’ charges. Second didn’t consider that she
-had actually wiped out the stigma of Tuesday’s overwhelming defeat, but
-she derived a lot of comfort from her showing, and White, whose capable
-foot had secured that goal from the field, was a twenty-four hour hero.
-It was even whispered that Coach Lyle had been seen looking hard at
-White and that the latter’s transfer to the First Team was inevitable.
-Which, while it may have brought pleasant anticipations to the Second
-Team while full-back, filled the rest of the fellows with gloomy
-forebodings.
-
-“That’s the way they do,” lamented Farquhar, the rangy left tackle.
-“Just as soon as we get a fellow so’s he’s some use to us they nab him
-for the First. What’s the use of that? If they want us to give ’em
-good practice they ought to let us have some decent players. But they
-don’t. Last year they swiped three of our fellows two weeks before the
-Broadwood game. They make me very weary!”
-
-However, it seemed that Second’s fears might be groundless, for Friday
-found White still with them, and he was still with them the following
-day when the First went up against Forest Hill School.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIII
-
-TEAM-MATES FALL OUT
-
-
-It was a brute of a day, with a chilling, drizzling rain and a sodden,
-sloppy field. Toby had been out of sorts since the moment of his
-awakening to a dimly-lighted room and the sound of dripping eaves. He
-had pecked at his breakfast, more than usually averse to the ruddiness
-of his steak and willing to exchange a whole pitcher of milk for one
-heartening cup of hot coffee. Recitations went badly. There was an
-evident listlessness on the part of the students and a consequent lack
-of sympathy on the part of the instructors. In Latin Toby made a horrid
-mess of things, his brain having apparently forgotten to function, and
-“Chawles,” as Mr. Coburn was known among the boys, became quite testy
-and rendered a lengthy oration on the shortcomings of the class, which,
-while intended for the entire assemblage, was aimed directly at Toby.
-I mention these incidents that you may better understand what happened
-in the afternoon when the Second Team stood rather morosely around in
-the drizzle and waited for practice to start and Toby, hands rolled in
-his sweater, glowered across to where the First Team was warming up for
-the Forest Hill contest and damp but enthusiastic cheers arose from the
-stands. It seemed to Toby that a whole lot of fellows, including T.
-Tucker, were wasting the golden moments of life in vain pursuits. Could
-Toby have chosen an occupation just then he would have been a bearded
-and brawny pirate afloat on a tropic sea, a cutlass between his teeth
-and an assortment of pistols thrust in his blood-red sash. Which shows
-that Toby’s normally gentle and sane disposition had a bad kink in it
-to-day.
-
-And at such an inopportune moment Roy Frick, whose disposition, unlike
-Toby’s, was never worthy of being termed gentle, saw fit to make
-himself obnoxious. In justice to Frick it should be explained that he
-had an inherent dislike for the sensation of raindrops trickling down
-the back of his neck, which sensation he was now having. Frick was
-a sturdily-made, hard-muscled fellow of seventeen with a broad, not
-ill-favored face. He was vain, arrogant and pugnacious, although there
-were those who said that he liked to talk fight better than he liked
-to fight. Perhaps in an effort to forget his misery, Frick had taken
-a ball from the canvas sack in which they were brought to the field
-and was passing with Lippman. Frick was behind Toby, but the latter
-was dimly aware of what was going on, just as he was aware of the
-late-comers, George Tubb among them, who were dawdling down from the
-gymnasium. Once the pigskin, made slippery by the rain, escaped from
-Frick and bobbed across the wet turf to where Toby stood, and Toby sent
-it trickling back with a touch of his foot. Perhaps there was something
-antagonistic in the brief, careless glance exchanged with Frick, for
-Toby felt antagonistic to everything at the moment. In any case, Frick
-doubtless resented that look, and a minute later the football collided
-with a dull, damp thump against the back of Toby’s head.
-
-“Sorry!” called Frick grinning. “The ball’s slippery, Tucker.”
-
-Toby flushed, walked onto the gridiron, where the pigskin was wobbling
-erratically about, and picked it up. Then, facing the longest stretch
-of the field and trying to recall all he had learned of punting, he
-swung his right foot against the dropping ball and was rewarded with
-a very healthy-sounding thump. Such a performance in a game would
-have won him applause, for the ball, in spite of its sodden condition,
-arched toward the further corner of the field in a fine, long flight
-and came to earth a full forty-five yards away. But there was no
-applause on this occasion, unless the amused glances of those who
-happened to see the feat could have been construed as applausive. Frick
-came running, his face redder than Toby’s had been.
-
-“What’s the idea, Tucker?” he demanded threateningly. “You go and fetch
-that now!”
-
-“Not likely,” answered Toby in a growl.
-
-“Yes, you will, or I’ll knock your red head off! You get it, do you
-hear?”
-
-Toby’s face paled from red to white. “Yes, I hear,” he said in a
-low and steady voice. He covered the distance of a scant yard that
-separated them in one quick step. “I hear a lot I don’t take stock in,
-Frick. I hear you’re a fighter, for instance!”
-
-Frick’s right arm went back, elbow crooked, hand clenched, and his
-right foot moved back with it, but Toby didn’t wait. Instead, he
-stepped suddenly forward with his own left foot and thrust shoulder and
-flattened hand against Frick’s chest with the result that the latter
-staggered back, failed to recover his balance and sat down hard. He was
-up in an instant, his eyes blazing, silent, and just a bit doubtful.
-And Toby, who had followed, stood ready. But, while a fight would have
-been a welcome relief from boredom, the others interposed. Watson and
-Farquhar and Sid Creel and several more got between the opponents with
-words of caution and displeasure.
-
-“Cut it, you chumps!” said the big center, pushing Frick away. “Here
-comes Mr. Burtis!”
-
-“What do I care?” cried Frick. “Think he’s going to knock me down and
-get away with it? Let go of me, Ben, or I’ll――I’ll smash you! I will!
-Take your hands――――”
-
-But Watson wouldn’t, and Farquhar was there too, soothing and
-ridiculing, and every one had mixed in and the incident was perforce
-closed. And lest Toby, who really seemed quite calm and peaceable,
-should attempt to continue the discussion, Sid Creel and Stover stood
-guard over him. And onto the scene strode Coach Burtis and Captain
-Beech, suspicious but asking no questions, and every one strolled
-casually somewhere else and looked very innocent.
-
-“What was the trouble?” whispered Sid Creel as he and Toby wandered
-along the side-line. Toby related the incident in a few words, and Sid
-observed him curiously.
-
-“Gee, you must have had a grouch,” he exclaimed wonderingly. “Never
-knew you had a temper like that, Toby!”
-
-“Well, I have,” answered Toby dryly. “Of course, it was a silly thing
-to do, but he had no business lamming me with that wet ball!”
-
-Sid grinned. “Well, it wasn’t his fault the ball was wet, was it?” he
-asked.
-
-Toby managed a weak smile. “It’s his fault he will have to chase after
-it,” he answered.
-
-But of course Frick didn’t have to do any such thing. There is always
-some obliging person about in such an emergency, and it was young
-Lovett, hopeful candidate for end position, who scurried off and
-brought it back to an indignant Gyp. Then practice began and every one
-had other things to think of for the succeeding hour. Now and again
-Toby and Roy Frick encountered each other, on which occasions Frick
-glowered or sneered and Toby pretended to have forgotten the other’s
-existence. Toby was rather ashamed of himself by now and quite willing
-to consider the affair closed.
-
-There was no scrimmage this afternoon, and at a little after four the
-squad was dismissed. Taking only time enough to wrap themselves in
-blankets, the Second hurried in a body across to the other gridiron and
-won a ripple of laughter as they appeared like so many blue wraiths,
-around the corner of the covered stand. It seemed like an accident, but
-possibly wasn’t, that George Tubb scuttled into the seat next to Toby.
-
-“Guess that guy would have mopped the ground up with you if the fellows
-hadn’t butted in,” observed George with one of his malicious grins.
-“He’s a lot heavier than you, Tucker.”
-
-“I had a lucky escape then,” replied Toby. “Know what the score is
-here?”
-
-“Nothing to nothing. Forest Hill’s too fast for those First Team yaps.
-Say, I wish Frick would try to get gay with me some day! I don’t like
-that blow-hard.”
-
-“Perhaps he will,” said Toby pleasantly. “At least, you can hope, Tubb.”
-
-George eyed him suspiciously. Toby’s tone had suggested that he viewed
-the idea with favor. George grunted. “Well, if he ever does he will get
-a lot more’n he expects,” he growled. “You ought to have handed him a
-punch instead of just pushing him, Tucker. He’ll be after you the first
-chance he gets. They say he’s a clever scrapper, too.”
-
-“Do they?” asked Toby indifferently. “Then there’ll probably be enough
-left for you to tackle, Tubb.”
-
-The third period ended just then, and Toby’s gaze, turning away from
-the players, encountered Tubb’s. For some reason Tubb colored, and then
-blurted: “Say, you never came around to the room like you said you were
-going to, Tucker. You’re getting sort of choosey, too, I suppose.”
-
-“I called last week, Tubb. You were out. Didn’t Ramsey tell you?”
-
-“Yes. I forgot. How’d you know I’d be out?” Again that objectionable
-grin! Toby frowned.
-
-“I didn’t,” he said shortly. Then: “Can’t you ever be decent, Tubb?” he
-asked. “This thing of always having a chip on your shoulder is a bit
-tiresome.”
-
-“I haven’t any chip.” Tubb laughed a mixture of apology and defiance.
-“I’ve got some――some pride, though! No fellow needs to know me if he
-doesn’t want to!”
-
-“That goes without saying,” answered Toby dryly.
-
-George scowled darkly. “Well, it’s so. A lot of you guys with
-wrist-watches make me tired! Gee, if――――”
-
-“I don’t happen to wear a wrist-watch, Tubb, and making you tired
-is nothing in my young life,” said Toby wearily. “Let’s cut out the
-love-pats. I’m not feeling awfully gay to-day. How do you like playing
-end?”
-
-“All right,” replied George after a moment. “If Mr. Burtis wasn’t a
-bonehead, though, he’d let me play half. I always have played half.”
-
-“Always?” asked Toby, idly, watching Snowden kick-off to Forest Hill.
-“How long is ‘always’?”
-
-“Well, last year and some the year before. I was the best back on our
-team, anyway!”
-
-“I didn’t know you had played so much. When I asked you――――”
-
-“Oh, well, you sounded so blamed patronizing,” growled George.
-
-“Didn’t mean to. I’m glad you stuck it out on the squad, Tubb. Beech
-said the other day that――well, he seemed to think you were going to
-make a pretty good end.”
-
-“Huh!” said George scornfully. “I could show him some real end playing
-right now if he’d give me a chance! But he’s stuck on Mawson and
-Connell.” In spite of his words, Toby got the idea that George was
-nevertheless pleased by the compliment to his playing. “I suppose they
-belong to the same Society Beech does!”
-
-“No, as a matter of fact, Tubb, Beech is Cambridge and Connell is
-Oxford. I don’t know which Mawson is, but I don’t think it matters. I
-wouldn’t make remarks of that sort if I were you. Fellows don’t like
-them.”
-
-If Tubb made any reply Toby didn’t hear it, for Halliday had got
-away around Forest Hill’s left and pulled down a long and desperate
-forward-pass, and now he was streaking up the field with the ball and
-the stand was on its feet, shouting and imploring. Halliday dodged the
-first of the enemy and sped on. Then the Forest Hill quarter was on
-him, there was a confusion of rolling bodies and Ted was free again
-to go plunging on toward the nearing goal-line. The pursuit gained
-but never quite reached him, and Ted at last subsided between the
-posts. That was all the scoring done by either team, and shortly after
-Captain Fanning had missed an easy goal the game ended. The visitors
-considered, and not without reason, that they had virtually won the
-honors of the day and departed cheering through the twilight drizzle.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIV
-
-TOBY AT QUARTER
-
-
-The outcome of the Forest Hill game was a favorite topic of discussion
-during the next few days. Although Yardley had won in the last four
-minutes, by means of a well-earned touchdown following a forward pass,
-the general opinion was that the Blue had been largely outplayed by
-a lighter but much faster eleven. Of course, reverses were to be
-expected, but after Yardley’s showing in the Tyron game it did seem
-that she should have done better against a “small school team” like
-Forest Hill. On the other hand, the local football historians reminded
-that some six seasons ago, Forest Hill had actually won from Yardley, 5
-to 3, and that it was no uncommon thing for the smaller school to score
-against the Blue.
-
-Rumors of changes in the line-up spread, and it was whispered that all
-was not serene between captain and coach. Arnold was decidedly glum
-that Saturday evening, and, although the usual excursion to Greenburg
-in search of moving picture thrills was made, he was no great addition
-to the company. Afterwards, when they were preparing for bed, Toby told
-him that he was foolish to let football worry him so. “Any one might
-think you were captain of the eleven instead of Fanning,” said Toby.
-“You act――――”
-
-“I wish I was――were――was――――”
-
-“‘Were’ will do. Why do you wish you was――were?”
-
-“Because I’d drop two or three of the ‘dead-ones’ and have a team
-instead of a bunch of stars!”
-
-Toby weighed that in silence. Finally: “Who are the ‘dead-ones’?” he
-asked.
-
-Arnold shook his head. “Guess I oughtn’t to talk about it,” he
-muttered. “It’s not my business.”
-
-“Right you are! Just remember that. If it’s not your business, don’t
-worry about it.”
-
-“That’s easy enough to say,” Arnold grumbled. After a moment he said
-explosively, dropping a shoe to the floor in emphasis: “Why Mr. Lyle
-doesn’t jump in and fire a couple of those fellows is what gets me! If
-he hasn’t got the backbone to stand up against Tom he oughtn’t to be
-coach.”
-
-“Oh, well, the season’s young yet,” answered Toby easily. “Maybe Mr.
-Lyle is sort of ‘watchful waiting.’ I’m thinking of going to sleep.
-When you get through holding your foot in your hand and making faces
-you might put out the light. It works quite easily. You just turn the
-thingumbob there. Don’t blow it out, please, because――――”
-
-“Because it might stop your chatter! All right. Good-night.”
-
-The rumored changes in the First Team line-up didn’t materialize,
-however; at least not during the following week. Arnold reported that
-things were going better and gave credit to Mr. Lyle, who, it seemed,
-had delivered a few well-chosen words on Monday, before practice. “He’s
-really got some of the loafers at work,” said Arnold. “Even Stone is
-showing a little animation!”
-
-“Stone being one of the ‘dead-ones’?”
-
-“Well, he hasn’t looked very much alive until this week,” answered
-Arnold. “I dare say we’ll get our gait by Saturday. They say Brown and
-Young’s is a tough bunch of scrappers. I hope they are. We need to go
-up against something that has a wallop!”
-
-“You did that very thing yesterday,” said Toby.
-
-“You’re not far off, at that,” agreed the other. “Your team put up a
-mighty pretty scrap. If you’d been half as good on defense as you were
-on attack――――”
-
-“Oh, well, I noticed that we held you fellows twice inside our thirty.
-Hold your horses. We’ll be beating you badly by the end of the month!”
-
-“Rather fancy yourself, don’t you?” jeered Arnold. “By the way, was
-that your friend Tubbs who played left end for you in the last half?”
-
-“Tubb is the gentleman’s name. What did you think of him?”
-
-“Why, he acted like a crazy Indian! He made me nervous looking at him,
-and hearing him!”
-
-Toby laughed. “That’s his style, Arn. It’s psychological, you see. He
-distracts the attention of the opponent from the game. All that jumping
-and up and down and running around and talking is just to get your
-goat!”
-
-“Well, he came near getting it, all right! He made as much row as a
-Broadwood shortstop with the bases full and two down! But he seemed
-to me to be playing a pretty good game, just the same. He was into
-everything!”
-
-“Beech says he’s a comer, Arn. If he could only get over the idea that
-he’s being imposed on by every one he’d get on a heap better.”
-
-“He’s a chronic sorehead and kicker, I suppose. I’ve met one or two
-like him. Maybe he will get over it in time. How’s that other protégé
-of yours, the tennis fiend?”
-
-“Ramsey? I don’t see much of him nowadays. But I know that he’s got in
-with a fairly decent lot of chaps and looks about fifty per cent better
-than he did. I told you about his freezing me one night when I went to
-see him? Had both windows wide open and told me he couldn’t get along
-without plenty of fresh air. Bet you anything he’d never slept with a
-window open in his life until Muscles got at him! You know, I think I
-can take a bit of credit for the――the rejuvenation of friend Ramsey!”
-
-“Well, that’s some word, but I dare say you’re right. Now all you’ve
-got to do is make Mr. Tubbs over and you’re through.”
-
-“Tubb is a hard-boiled one, Arn, and I haven’t much hope of him. If
-I liked him a bit better I suppose I’d take more interest in his
-career――――”
-
-“I wish you’d stop talking like a blooming dictionary,” groaned Arnold.
-“Now dry up and let me take a fall out of this math.”
-
-That week saw two changes in the Second Team. Sid Creel displaced
-Watson at center and George Tubb was shifted from B Team to A. He and
-Mawson were used impartially and in the four games that the Second
-played against the First that week there appeared to be little choice
-between them. The same could be as truthfully said of Toby and Roy
-Frick. Sometimes one started the game and sometimes the other, but each
-had an equal chance. Toby had his shortcomings and so did his rival,
-Toby’s concerning individual play and Frick’s generalship. Or, perhaps,
-leadership would be a better word to use. Somehow, or so it seemed
-to those whose business it was to note such things, the Second Team
-showed more life and aggressiveness when Toby’s shrill voice called
-the signals. For Toby’s voice _was_ shrill when he played quarter,
-though at other times it was an ordinary tenor of middle register, with
-a pleasant touch of Long Island fog in it. But that first day, when
-unexpectedly called on to act as quarter-back, Toby’s nervousness had
-sent his voice several notes up the scale, and for some reason it had
-never come down again so long as he was giving signals. Arnold likened
-it to the yelping of a fox terrier one day, and on the next occasion
-Toby tried hard to bring it back to normal, with the result that it
-sounded as hoarse as a frog with a bad cold, and no one could hear him!
-
-But at individual playing of the position, Roy Frick was better. Frick
-was a tricky runner and frequently squirmed outside tackles for needed
-gains. And he was a dependable punter. Possibly Toby would have showed
-up better beside Frick at this time if he had had more faith in his own
-ability, but he was chary of trusting to his own efforts to advance the
-ball. On catching punts and running them in, he was not much behind his
-rival, and at punting he was fast catching up with him. But there was
-no doubt that from the spectator’s point of view Frick was the man for
-the job.
-
-There had been no resumption of hostilities between the two. Toby was
-willing to forgive and forget, although he secretly disliked Frick for
-the latter’s overbearing manner. For his part, Frick had evidently
-neither forgiven nor forgotten, but he seemed satisfied to let the
-matter rest as it was. Toby had an idea that the other frequently
-ridiculed his playing, for sometimes he caught looks of stifled
-amusement on the faces of Frick’s cronies. As, however, they were
-seldom on the bench at the same time and, being in different classes
-and having different circles of friends, scarcely ever encountered each
-other off the football field, there was little chance for a clash. At
-training table Frick sat four places from Toby on the same side of the
-board; and, anyway, at table personal animosities would not be allowed
-to flourish. Save for an occasional Sunday, Coach Burtis was always in
-his place at the head, and he had a watchful eye and a careful ear.
-
-On Friday, contrary to custom, the Second Team was led across to the
-other gridiron for a twelve-minute bout with the First. The First had
-not pleased Coach Lyle since the Forest Hill game, and the morrow’s
-contest, with Brown and Young’s School would demand all the Blue had.
-Toby was sent in at quarter. He noted two changes in the First Team’s
-line. Casement was playing right guard in place of Snow and Candee was
-at center in Simpson’s stead. Coach Burtis had instructed him to give
-the First’s center and right side the brunt of the line attack, and
-Toby understood now that the substitutes there were to be put to the
-test. He wondered if either of them suspected and whether their own
-coach had instigated the ordeal. He felt a bit sorry for Snow, who was
-rather light for a guard, and hoped he wouldn’t get used too roughly.
-
-There was no kick-off to-day. Instead, Second was given the ball
-in the middle of the field. Coaches and trainers hovered about
-like hawks around a chicken yard, and there was much exhorting and
-last-moment instructing. First Team had been keyed up to the minute,
-and faces showed strain and poised bodies tension. Toby had Nelson,
-Lippman, and Crawford behind him, and it was Lippman he chose for
-that first attack. His voice yelped, Farquhar, left tackle, trotted
-over to the right of the line, the signal came, and Lippman, seizing
-the ball at a hand-pass, smashed ahead. Crawford and Toby piled in
-behind. The First Team line buckled and snapped back again. Jim Rose,
-big and pink-cheeked, roared defiance. “Second down! Nine!” shouted
-the referee. Toby grabbed an arm and pulled Lippman out of the pile.
-Already he was shouting new signals. Again Farquhar shifted, again
-Lippman took the pass. But this time he shot obliquely to the left,
-the whole back-field behind him, and plunged at Snow. Through he went,
-fighting, squirming, turning! two yards――three――four――Then the rout was
-stayed. A faint “Down” and the blowing of the whistle came together.
-Toby arose from some one’s unquiet legs and added another note to his
-voice:
-
-“That’s the stuff, Second! That’s working! Come on, now! Let’s get ’em
-again! Signal!”
-
-“Five to go!” cried the referee, skipping away.
-
-“Hold that side! Hold that side!” shouted Fanning.
-
-“That was on you, Snow!” Mr. Lyle’s voice was ice-cold. “Don’t let them
-do it again!”
-
-“Come on, Yardley! Throw ’em back!” called Curran, up-field. “Watch for
-a forward, there, Ted!”
-
-Again Second smashed at the First’s right guard and center, and again
-the latter yielded. But Crawford had made only a yard and a half, and
-now it was fourth down and the forty-yard line was still a good ten
-feet distant. Grover Beech pulled Toby’s head down and whispered, and
-Toby gave back a doubtful glance. But Beech’s word was law so long
-as it didn’t transgress the coach’s instructions, and Toby yielded.
-“Farquhar back!” he called. “Hold that line, Second!” Farquhar trotted
-to a kicking position and Nelson slipped into the line. First scented
-a fake, but covered her field nevertheless. Then the ball shot back to
-Lippman and he set out around his end, Toby leading. For a moment the
-play looked good, for First had drawn her back-field away, but Sanford
-eluded Connell and sent Toby sprawling and Roover got Lippman two
-yards short of the distance.
-
-First made two at the Second’s left and then kicked. Crawford misjudged
-the ball badly on his twenty-five yards and it went over his head. Toby
-fell on it on his fifteen, and two First Team men fell on him. Second
-plugged the center again for two, and again for one. Then, on a delayed
-pass, Crawford squirmed through Snow for eight yards and first down.
-What a scolding there was then! Coach Lyle fairly raised welts. Some
-one called for time, and Toby, still short of breath from being sat on
-by the First Team ends, was very glad. Beech led him back.
-
-“Watch Stone,” he said. “He’s coming away in on those plays. Slip one
-through outside him, Tucker. There’s a fine hole there!”
-
-Toby nodded. “Got to bang the center, though, Beech. Coach’s orders.
-I’ll try it, though, first time they tighten.”
-
-Toby shifted his line to the left, and First massed to meet the attack.
-Lippman failed at center, Candee standing like a rock. On a fake-kick,
-Crawford struck the line hard, but made less than a yard. Crawford
-gained three through Snow. Farquhar dropped back and Lippman dashed
-outside Stone and reeled off six yards before he was stopped. With one
-to go on fourth down, Toby elected to punt, and Farquhar dropped the
-pigskin on the First’s thirty-yard line. Roover brought it back to near
-the center of the field before Beech pulled him down.
-
-First worked a neat forward-pass that netted seventeen yards and then
-smashed through center for five more. Second held twice and First
-booted over the line. On the twenty-five Toby returned to the attack on
-Snow and Candee and gained six in three downs. A fake-kick resulted in
-a fumble and the pigskin went to First on the opponent’s twenty-two.
-There was no holding the First Team then and she scored in seven plays,
-Snowden landing the ball near the corner of the field. The punt-out was
-not allowed and the teams went back to the fifty. Coach Lyle took pity
-on Snow and that much-mauled youth was removed in favor of Casement.
-For the Second, Stover and White came on for Lippman and Crawford,
-and George Tubb for Mawson. Again the kick-off was barred and Second
-given the ball. Toby tried the new right guard with no gain, got Stover
-around left for three, failed once more at center and himself punted to
-First’s twenty. First kicked on second down, Snowden getting nearly
-fifty yards. Stover caught and dodged back for ten. From the forty,
-Tubb swung around back and gained midfield on a fine run around the
-enemy’s left end. Then Toby fumbled and Rose captured the ball for the
-First. Another forward pass, Curran to Halliday, took the First to the
-Second’s twenty-four, and from there the First battered her way across
-for the second score. Before she got it, however, Toby retired groggily
-and Frick took his place. Toby had ill-advisedly allowed Snowden to sit
-on his stomach. Frick’s labor was soon over, however, for the First
-Team’s second touchdown practically ended the game.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XV
-
-THE “TOUGH BUNCH”
-
-
-No one seemed satisfied with the day’s performance. The First resented
-the enemy’s gains through their line and the Second declared stoutly
-that if they had been taught a decent defense against forward-passes
-the First would never have scored. Arnold told Toby later that Coach
-Lyle had read the riot act afterwards. “I didn’t know he could be so
-rude,” said Arnold sadly.
-
-“Why didn’t you get in to-day?” Toby asked from the window-seat where,
-propped on many cushions, he looked pale and interesting.
-
-“Lyle wanted to give you fellows a show.”
-
-“Well, Bates didn’t do a whole lot,” said Toby. “You’re pretty punk,
-Arn, but you’ve got it over him. Gee, if I hadn’t made that rotten
-fumble on the fifty yards that time we might have held you fellows to a
-measly six points!”
-
-“Yes, not! Son, that fumble of yours didn’t affect the game a mite. It
-was forward-passing that beat you chaps. Your ends were no good at all.
-Even your friend Mr. Tubb was fast asleep.”
-
-“I know. We’ve got no sort of a defense for forward-passes. I called
-the turn on that second one, but Farquhar was away out of position and
-Tubb let Roover get right by him. You wait another week, though! We’re
-getting your measure, Arn! What about to-morrow? Are you going to play?”
-
-“Ask Mr. Lyle. I suppose I’ll get a show sometime, though. I sure want
-to. They say Brown and Young’s are regular bearcats! What time is it
-getting to be? I’m as hungry as the dickens. Let’s go!”
-
-The Second Team had no practice Saturday, which, for some of its
-members, was fortunate, since the First had managed to deal very
-harshly with them during the brief period of yesterday’s game. Toby,
-although he had nothing to show in the way of scars, was tired and
-lame when he crawled out of bed in the morning, and not until he had
-shivered under a shower-bath, groaningly rubbed himself pink and done
-two minutes of setting-up exercises in front of an open window which
-admitted the frostly tingle of the October morning did the usual
-feeling of well-being return. After that he was able to reach chapel
-without protests from lame muscles and, later, do full justice to a
-breakfast of cereal, eggs, toast, stewed fruit, and milk.
-
-Fortunately, on Saturday mornings recitations were few, for, save
-during a brief midwinter period when outdoor sports were at a
-standstill, preoccupation was always noticeable on the part of the
-student body on that day of the week. Such a condition of mind was
-especially evident this forenoon, due, probably, to the fact that
-Yardley’s opponent in the afternoon had been heralded as a strong team
-with a proclivity for “roughing it.” Yardley, as much as any school and
-perhaps more than many, held for clean playing, but there was enough
-of the “Old Adam” there to make a bit of scrapping interesting. Its
-attitude was well explained by a remark made by Will Curran, the First
-Team quarter, in front of Oxford between recitations.
-
-“If they’re mean players we’ll lick them,” said Curran. “I never saw a
-team yet who could play dirty ball and win as long as the other fellow
-played clean. But my guess is that they won’t play dirty. That sort of
-stuff doesn’t go here, and I think they know it. If they don’t know it
-they’ll mighty soon find it out! They’ll play clean if we have to slug
-’em to make ’em!”
-
-Which statement, although made in all sincerity and with a perfectly
-sober countenance, met with a ripple of laughter from his hearers.
-“That’s the idea, Will!” approved Frank Lamson. “We’ll have peace if we
-have to fight for it!”
-
-Brown and Young’s School was a new institution and a large one.
-You saw its half-page advertisements in the magazines every month.
-Although a city school, it emphasized athletics and had a field that
-any university might have been proud of, with a stadium that was an
-architectural triumph. There were those who opined that Brown and
-Young’s graduates were likely to be better grounded in football,
-baseball and track athletics than in scholarly studies, but possibly
-such persons were disgruntled by a Brown and Young’s defeat. For Brown
-and Young’s took athletics seriously and pursued victory on diamond,
-gridiron or rink most strenuously. And, it must be acknowledged, Brown
-and Young’s had won many laurels. Yardley had met her last spring in
-baseball, but this was the first gridiron contest between the two. On
-the diamonds Brown and Young’s had proved noisy, argumentative and a
-trifle rough in the pinches, and had accepted a 3 to 2 defeat not very
-graciously, but she had not been guilty of unfair tactics. Perhaps, as
-Tom Fanning said, she liked to be thought a bit “tough” in the hope
-that her adversaries would either be afraid or try to beat her at
-toughness and get caught doing it. In any event, Yardley received a
-strict warning from Coach Lyle before the game.
-
-“Any fellow who tries dirty work will come out,” he declared. “If the
-officials don’t put him off, I will. Just remember that. If Brown and
-Young’s don’t play clean it’s up to the officials. We’ve heard that
-these fellows are a ‘tough bunch,’ a win-at-any-cost team, but you
-can’t believe everything you hear. So don’t go into the game looking
-for trouble. Maybe it isn’t there. If they should try the rough-stuff,
-your captain will call the officials’ attention to it. Just you keep
-your hands and your temper down and your heads up. Play as hard as you
-know how, fellows, but play fair.”
-
-It was an ideal football day, crisp and sunny, with almost no wind.
-Frost had left the field a bit soft but not sufficiently so to affect
-any one’s game. Greenburg turned out a good audience, which, added to
-the Yardley rooters and a half-hundred Brown and Young’s followers,
-nearly filled the stands by three o’clock. Toby had Sid Creel and
-Grover Beech for companions, and, reaching the field early, they got
-first row seats directly behind the Yardley bench. Brown and Young’s
-came on first, a capable-looking squad of thirty or so, accompanied
-by a regular retinue of noncombatants; a head coach and an assistant
-coach, a couple of managers, a trainer, an assistant trainer and two
-rubbers.
-
-“Guess the Principal must be ill,” said Beech dryly. “I don’t see him
-anywhere.”
-
-“Maybe he’s one of the cheer leaders,” suggested Sid. “Those are sure
-some gaudy togs of theirs!”
-
-Sid had reference to the enemy’s orange sweaters and
-orange-and-black-ringed stockings.
-
-“Princeton colors,” said Beech. “Doubtless showing a predilection for
-that university on the part of our noble opponent.”
-
-“How do you get that way?” inquired Sid slangily. “Brown and Young’s
-fellows don’t go to Princeton.”
-
-“Don’t they?” asked Toby innocently. “Where do they go?”
-
-“Into professional baseball,” answered Sid in triumph.
-
-Beech grinned approval of the bon mot, but said that he didn’t believe
-there was room in professional baseball for them all. Sid didn’t argue
-the matter, for Yardley trotted around the corner of the stand just
-then and the cheer leaders were bellowing for “A regular Yardley cheer,
-fellows, for the Team!”
-
-After that, with four elevens warming up on the gridiron, there was
-too much to watch for conversation to flourish. Instead, the talk
-ran something like this: “Noyes is driving the scrubs.”――“Simpson’s
-back at center, Cap.”――“Gee, that was some punt! Wonder if they
-can do that in the game!”――“Oh, you Ted Halliday!”――“Look at
-the size of that guy, will you? Must be their center.”――“Right
-guard. He’d make two of Casement!”――“Those chaps have got a heap
-of pep, haven’t they?”――“How’re you betting, Cap?”――“Watch that
-yellow-leg kicking goals down there, fellows! He hasn’t missed one
-yet!”――“Hello, Andy! Who’s going to win?”――“Who’s the little chap
-in the gray sweater?”――“Cornish, of Trinity. He’s umpiring. He’s
-good, too.”――“Those fellows can cheer, can’t they? Rotten name for a
-school, though; Brown and Young’s. Sounds like they were advertising
-a department store!”――“Must be most time to start. Three minutes of?
-There goes Fanning now. Is that the referee with him?”――“Good-looking
-guy, that Brown and Young’s captain.”――“Fan lost the toss! Sure he
-did! What? Oh, that’s different! Still, I don’t see――――”――“Every one
-up! Bust yourself, Toby! Rah! Rah! Rah!――――”
-
-Then, when the rival cheers had floated off across the river and
-the gold-and-russet marshes beyond, the stands became momentarily
-silent and the referee’s voice sounded clearly: “All ready, Brown
-and Young?――Ready, Yardley?” Then the whistle piped and a tall
-yellow-sleeved tackle swung a striped leg and sent the new ball
-hurtling down the field.
-
-It was a long, high kick, and well-placed, and when Snowden had
-gathered it into his arms and doubled himself over it the enemy was
-almost on him. A scant eight yards he made, by dint of much twisting
-and feinting, and then he was pulled down. Yardley made one stab at
-the opponent’s left and gained two. Then the ball went back to Snowden
-and was hurled well up the field to the left. Roover was quite alone
-when it reached him, and he trailed off a dozen yards before he was
-forced outside. The play had caught the enemy napping, and it had
-suddenly moved the game from Yardley to Brown and Young’s territory,
-for when the ball was paced in and grounded it lay just short of the
-enemy’s forty yards. The Blue’s cohorts cheered and shouted and waved,
-while, from across the field, came a snappy, undismayed cheer from the
-Orange-and-Black.
-
-Another slight gain outside left tackle, and again the pigskin shot
-back to Snowden. This time the big full-back started off toward his
-right as if he meant to turn the end, but, challenged, he threw a
-lateral to Arnold Deering, and Arnold, behind good interference, raced
-to the adversary’s twenty-eight before he was set on savagely and
-tumbled head over heels. Fortunately he held tight to the ball. The
-Yardley stand was in an uproar of triumph and delight. Dismay showed
-in the ranks of the enemy. Toby saw the Brown and Young’s quarter,
-a spindly, nervous-mannered youth, look back apprehensively at the
-goal-posts as he retreated up the field yelling strident encouragement
-to his fellows. Toby felt a certain sympathy with that quarter-back,
-enemy or no enemy. Toby had experienced similar apprehension.
-
-Brown and Young’s looked pitifully weak during the next few minutes.
-Her opponent’s success had upset her calculations and the suddenness of
-events had left her gasping and rattled. From the twenty-eight yards
-Roover carried the ball in two plunges through the Orange’s left to a
-position opposite the goal and twenty-one yards away from it. Then
-kicking formation was called and Fanning dropped out of the line, his
-place being taken by Roover. Brown and Young’s shouted warnings against
-a fake, but the cry of “Block that kick!” mingled with them. Captain
-Fanning stretched his hands forth, Curran piped his signals, the ball
-left Simpson――――
-
-Confusion reigned! Cries filled the air! Yardley swept forward! But
-where was the ball? Fanning’s right leg swung against nothing. Deering
-was running off to the left, chased by an orange-sleeved end and Brown
-and Young’s forwards were piling through. But no one, it seemed, had
-the ball! And then, out of the ruck of confusion, shot a flash of blue
-that, seen dimly between the heaving forms of friend and foe, resolved
-into the likeness of Curran! Straight ahead leaped the quarter-back,
-straight at the center of the goal. For five yards he slipped
-unchallenged through the very storm center of the battle. Then the ruse
-was discovered and the Orange hurled her defenses upon him. But friend
-as well as enemy was about him now, and not until the ten-yard line was
-underfoot was he tackled. Then, fighting hard, he dragged on for three
-more strides, faltered, was borne back and went down under an avalanche
-of enemy forms.
-
-“The old delayed pass!” cried Grover Beech almost tearfully in his
-joy. “And they fell for it!”
-
-Eight yards to go! Desperately, while the tumult still reigned, Brown
-and Young’s lined up under the shadow of her goal. That she could stop
-the enemy now was too much to hope, nor did she, though she battled
-fiercely. Deering was launched ahead for two yards and Roover made two
-more. The shouting had almost ceased from the stands and the Brown and
-Young’s quarter could be heard imploring the team to “Hold ’em fellows!
-Throw ’em back! Get low! Get low! Hold ’em!” And with his voice came a
-medley of others and, sharp, stabbing, through them all, the musketry
-of Curran’s signals. Then a sudden heaving of both tense lines, a
-concentration of the whole Yardley back-field on the enemy center,
-a slow yielding there and, finally, a break, with Snowden, the ball
-hugged to his stomach, arching over and through on a sea of squirming
-figures!
-
-Well over the last line lay the pigskin, a foot to spare! And as
-Yardley trotted back, swinging headguards, cavorting a little, and
-Brown and Young’s lined up sullenly beneath the cross-bar, Sid Creel
-laid his head in Toby’s lap, kicked Beech lovingly on the shins and
-murmured rapturously: “From our twenty yards to their goal in nine
-plays! Eighty yards in eight minutes! O Brown, where is thy victory! O
-Young, where is thy sting!”
-
-Fanning kicked an easy goal and again Brown and Young’s sent the ball
-from the tee. There was a breathless moment while Arnold Deering
-juggled the catch and then a clever advance of nearly twenty yards
-through half the enemy team. Two attempts at the line netted but three,
-and Yardley made her first punt. And for the first time since the game
-began Brown and Young’s had the ball in her possession. But disruption
-was still evident, and the whistle sounding the end of the first period
-came as a welcome of relief to the visitors.
-
-When play was resumed the Orange showed her possibilities, for,
-although Yardley stopped her midway between center line and goal and,
-having adopted defensive tactics for the time, kicked again on second
-down, Brown and Young’s came back with ever increasing determination.
-
-The Orange used a clever and often disconcerting combination of
-straight, old-style line-bucking and wide end-running with a remarkably
-efficient protection for the man with the ball. She had a bewildering
-number of back-field combinations, apparently chiefly designed to
-confuse the opponent. The fact that line-attacks and end-runs were
-sent off from the same close-up formation of the backs made it hard
-for Yardley to guess which was coming. In fact, the Brown and Young’s
-system of plays was well calculated to keep the enemy on the anxious
-seat, and just so long as her line continued fairly impregnable she was
-bound to make gains. So far she had attempted no forward-passing, and
-her kicking game was still an unknown quantity. Her plan appeared to
-be to hold the ball as long as she could, making the opponent wrest it
-from her in the scrimmage.
-
-As the second quarter progressed her attacks became fiercer and her
-resistance more stubborn. Her men played well together, and, although
-a few stood out above the rest in ability, individual effort was
-subordinated to teamwork. It was teamwork that made possible her
-running game, for every man had a duty and performed it, and not once
-in that period was Yardley able to reach the man with the ball until
-he had at least crossed the scrimmage line, and more often he had a
-substantial gain to his credit before the Blue’s secondary defense
-stopped him. It was principally the fact that, once inside the thirty
-yards, Brown and Young’s abandoned end-running for line-plugging that
-Yardley’s goal remained intact in that first half. Twice Yardley took
-the ball away from her inside the twenty-yard line and punted out of
-danger, and twice the Orange hammered or scuttled her way back again,
-the whistle halting a march that seemed destined to bring a touchdown.
-
-“That seven points doesn’t look as safe as it did awhile back,”
-said Grover Beech as the rival squads trailed off to the gymnasium.
-“Considering the way those lads played in the last quarter, I’d say we
-were mighty lucky to get it!”
-
-“You’re dead right,” agreed Sid Creel. “They’ve got it all over us on
-team-play. They move like a regular machine. Those end-runs of theirs
-are the slickest things I’ve seen in an age, and if we don’t find some
-way of stopping them we’ll get licked as sure as shooting!”
-
-“There’s just one way to stop them,” said Toby. “That’s to play our
-ends further out and bring a back into the line.”
-
-“Then they’d cut inside the end,” said Sid. “That’s old-stuff, sonny.
-Pull the opposing end out and then shoot the plays inside him.”
-
-“But with a half-back there――――”
-
-“The trouble is,” said Beech, “you can’t guess when they’re coming.
-Half a dozen times I doped it out that they were going to smash the
-line and they just fooled me. There’s nothing to give you a hint. I
-could see Tom Fanning getting goggle-eyed trying to size up what was
-coming. Usually there’s something to give the snap away: a back drops a
-foot or two further back or to one side, or he faces a bit the way the
-play’s going without meaning to, or you get a hint from the signal. But
-these chaps are foxy.”
-
-“I don’t believe they’ve got anything on us as far as their line goes,”
-said Sid.
-
-“The only thing they’ve got on us is smoother playing,” declared Beech.
-“They’re playing end-of-season football and we’re playing what we’ve
-learned and no more.”
-
-“Well, how do they get that way?” growled Sid.
-
-“They go at it harder, I guess. They tell me that that coach of theirs
-gets ten thousand a year.”
-
-“Ten thousand dollars!” ejaculated Toby.
-
-“No, eggs,” replied Sid sarcastically. “Well, why not? If he can teach
-a team to play like that by midseason he’s worth it.”
-
-“Maybe,” agreed Beech. “If you’re running that kind of a school. But
-the best college football coach doesn’t get any more, and――――”
-
-“They say Brown and Young’s has an enrollment this fall of nearly seven
-hundred, and it’s only three or four years old,” said Sid. “So I guess
-they can afford to pay a real salary to the coach. And I guess it pays
-them to afford it. Wonder, though, how much the Principal gets!”
-
-“Oh, the Principal isn’t important,” observed Toby. “I dare say he just
-gets his room and meals and stationery, the poor fish! He ought to take
-a tumble to himself and study football. I had a sort of an idea I might
-be a railroad president or own a bank, or something modest like that,
-but I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to be a football coach. It pays
-better and the hours are shorter.”
-
-“But think of the responsibility,” chuckled Beech. “Wealth isn’t
-everything, Tucker.”
-
-“Say, do these yellow-legs play Broadwood?” demanded Sid.
-
-“No, I don’t believe so. They never have,” replied Beech.
-
-“Too bad. I wish they would. We’d get a dandy line on Broadwood.”
-
-“And Broadwood would get a dandy line on us. Don’t see that it would
-help much. Well, here they come again. No, it’s our fellows. Get onto
-your job, Fless!”
-
-The cheer leader gave a startled look over his shoulder, grabbed his
-big blue megaphone and jumped to his feet. “Come on, Yardley! Every
-one up! Regular cheer, with nine ‘Yardleys!’ One! Two!――――”
-
-The only change in the Blue’s line-up at the beginning of the third
-period was at left end, where Meadows had displaced Sandford. The
-Orange team returned intact. Yardley brought renewed joy to her
-supporters in the first few minutes by two long gains, one by means of
-a forward-pass and one by means of a seventeen-yard run by Deering,
-that took her well into Brown and Young’s territory. But after that the
-Orange refused to give and the ball changed hands on her twenty-seven
-yards. That Coach Lyle had tried hard to solve the enemy’s running
-game was evident on the occasion of the latter’s first attempt to gain
-around Yardley’s left. Instead of trying to get through the enemy’s
-excellent interference at once, Yardley adopted waiting tactics. So
-long as the man with the ball kept on toward the side-line the Blue was
-content to let him alone, and the surprising and even amusing spectacle
-of fully half of each team streaking in parallel courses across the
-field resulted. By these tactics Yardley gained an advantage. Whereas
-before she had plunged blindly at the Orange’s interference, often not
-knowing where the ball was, she now had time to size up the situation
-and bend every energy toward the runner. Brown and Young’s play brought
-the whole back-field out laterally, the runner carrying the ball,
-either a half or the full-back, well guarded by three interferers, to
-whom, once having diverted the opponent’s charge toward the center, was
-added an end and tackle who formed what was virtually a rear guard. To
-be successful, however, the play demanded that the opposing defense be
-drawn through soon after it had started, the interference engaging it
-and the man with the ball shooting free at the last moment and turning
-in. So as long as the opponent did not challenge, the Orange formation
-continued on in a lateral direction until, for a moment, it seemed
-that it would simply continue across the side-line and into the stand!
-Eventually, however, the runner saw the futility of further waiting
-and took the law into his own hands in a desperate effort to save the
-play. But as he had to drop back to let his interference pass before
-he could turn in he was very promptly nailed and the Orange netted a
-six-yard loss. But of course it didn’t work out so well for Yardley
-the next time, for the Orange changed her tactics and shot the runner
-in at the first opportunity. Nevertheless, the play lost most of its
-effectiveness and, toward the end of the contest, was entirely ignored.
-
-In that third period the honors were fairly even, with each team
-gaining two first downs and neither penetrating nearer to her
-opponent’s goal than the twenty-seven-yard line. Brown and Young’s
-punters showed themselves fully equal to either Roover or Snowden and
-the rival lines exhibited a similar strength against attack. Perhaps
-the Orange’s superiority, if she showed any, was in her aggressiveness,
-although it brought no returns so far as scoring was concerned. Each
-team in the period might have attempted a field-goal but chose to stand
-or fall on rushing. The seven points scored to the credit of Yardley
-had regained something of their original value when time was called for
-the quarter, although Brown and Young’s rooters were still hopeful and,
-across the field, there were many anxious hearts.
-
-Of the sort of playing with which the visitors had been accused, none
-had been seen. To be sure, the Orange players played hard and fierce,
-and when they tackled the runner always stayed where he was put, but
-nothing mean nor underhand had appeared. They did a lot of talking
-across the line, and some of their remarks were not in the best taste,
-but many of Yardley’s opponents were what the fellows called “gabby”
-and the Blue was used to verbal attack.
-
-Play started in the final period with the pigskin in Yardley’s
-possession on her opponent’s forty-four yards. Candee had taken
-Simpson’s place at center and Twining had substituted Rose at left
-guard. On the opposing team two changes in the line and one in the
-back-field had been made. Deering plugged through the Orange left for
-a short gain and Roover got outside tackle for two yards. Curran threw
-to Meadows, who missed the pass, and Roover punted. An Orange back
-cut through the Yardley field for nearly twenty yards after catching
-and the ball was on Brown and Young’s forty-one. It was then that the
-visitors opened their bag of tricks.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVI
-
-TUBB WINS PROMOTION
-
-
-First, the Orange changed her back-field formation entirely. Instead
-of standing close to the line, three abreast, the two halves and the
-full-back retired to a position a good ten yards behind the scrimmage
-and spread widely. The quarter stood five yards behind center, crouched
-to take the pass. The right tackle shifted to the other side of the
-line, toward which, at the start of the signal, the three backs made
-a quarter-turn. But as the ball went back to the quarter the three
-swung to the right and started diagonally toward the end of their
-line, left half and full aiming at a point just outside it and right
-half deploying further to the right. At the same moment the right end
-began sprinting straight toward the side-line, drawing the Yardley left
-tackle and a defensive back with him.
-
-Having taken the ball from center, the quarter-back started also to
-the right, running parallel to the line until, left half and full
-having crossed in front of him, he was behind right end’s original
-position. There he slowed and shot the pigskin away at a lateral pass
-to the right half. The throw was some fifteen yards and perfectly made,
-and the right half, as yet unmolested, had no difficulty in getting it.
-Whereupon he set forth on his adventures, heading straight along the
-side-line and about twelve yards away from it. The opposing end had
-been blanketed by the full-back and it was not until the runner crossed
-the line of scrimmage that serious opposition to his advance developed.
-And then, with his own end and left half guarding his flank and the
-quarter making trouble for the rear attack, he proceeded brilliantly
-across the middle of the field and set his eyes on the goal.
-
-Yardley, suspecting something unusual and spectacular, had played her
-ends back and out and deployed three backs up the field. Halliday, at
-right end, had been rudely set aside, and it was Curran and Roover
-on whom the task of stopping the runner devolved. Roover, nearer at
-hand, did his best to get past the interference but failed, although
-in failing he upset the Brown and Young’s full-back. By now the whole
-field was in pursuit, with, however, most of it hopelessly out of the
-race. Yet Casement, who for a guard was remarkably fast on his feet,
-somehow managed to get to the fore and sent the Orange quarter-back
-spinning aside, after which he put out for the runner. But Curran was
-the man for the job.
-
-Slowing as he neared the prey, he feinted as though to pass behind
-the Orange left half who was running about three yards inside the man
-with the ball. The half, guessing that the enemy would do the thing he
-appeared not to be doing, ran on, and Curran, leaping forward, circled
-behind him. And, although the half challenged, throwing himself between
-Curran and his team-mate, Curran managed somehow to meet the impact
-and, carried forward by his own momentum, seized one Yellow-and-Black
-leg ere it twinkled beyond his reach. The man with the ball added
-another yard to his gain, dragging Curran with him, but that weight was
-not to be denied and he came to his knees. Then Casement flattened him
-out, friend and foe labored breathlessly up and the whistle blew.
-
-Brown and Young’s had made a gain of nearly thirty yards, for when
-the ball had been wrested from the tenacious grip of the Orange right
-half-back it went down just short of Yardley’s thirty-yard line.
-Orange-hued banners waved wildly on the east stand while Yardley gave a
-well-deserved cheer for the rival half-back.
-
-Brown and Young’s had her eyes on the goal-line now and it seemed that
-she was not to be denied. Twice she hurled her full-back through for
-short gains at left guard, and then, using the new formation again,
-worked as pretty a quarter-back run around her left end as had ever
-been seen on Yardley Field. With the ball on the seventeen yards,
-she tried the line once more and split through for half the needed
-distance, the Blue’s left crumpling badly. Twining took the place of
-Rose, and another attempt on the left gained a scant yard. With four
-to go on third down, Brown and Young’s made all preparations for a
-place-kick, and a big, long-legged tackle ranged back to position.
-Yet Yardley refused to believe in that kick. The Orange needed seven
-points to tie, and it wasn’t likely that, with only a short time left,
-she would satisfy herself with a mere three points. And so, although
-everything pointed to a kick from placement, Fanning and Curran sounded
-their warnings and the backs hovered anxiously midway between line and
-goal. Then, at last, the ball sped back.
-
-But it never reached the outstretched hands of the tackle. Instead,
-it went to a half-back and, as the Blue’s forwards desperately broke
-through, the half poised the pigskin calmly until Casement was almost
-on him and then as calmly sped it over the mêlée diagonally into the
-waiting arms of his right end. And that youth had but to take two
-strides to cross the last white line. When he was pulled down he was
-almost behind the right goal post.
-
-How that end got into position for receiving the pass unnoticed none
-on the Yardley team ever knew. One moment he wasn’t there and the next
-moment he was. Halliday and Deering, theoretically at least, shared the
-blame, although, as Fanning generously said afterwards, a forward-pass
-was the last thing expected. Not once before had the enemy attempted a
-forward from ordinary formation, and unconsciously Yardley had grown to
-think that that play was not included in her plan of battle. As it was,
-Arnold had seen the ball hurtling toward the corner of the field and
-had leaped forward with a sick feeling at his heart. But he had been a
-fraction of a moment too late. The end had made the catch ere Arnold
-reached him, and although Arnold threw desperate arms toward him the
-end eluded them and went free until Curran pulled him to earth.
-
-Brown and Young’s walked the ball out and, although the angle was
-sufficient to allow Yardley to hope for failure, the big tackle sent it
-squarely between the posts and the score was tied.
-
-With less than four minutes left, it was fairly obvious that 7 to
-7 would be the final score, but Yardley, with three new men in her
-line-up, still hoped and returned eagerly to the fray. The kick-off
-went to the Orange’s twelve yards and came back only to her fifteen. A
-skin-tackle on her right brought her three yards and a second attempt
-was stopped. For the first time since the game had started the Orange
-players became ugly. Many changes had been made, and possibly it was
-a substitute who, charging through, tried to “mix it up” with Bates,
-who had succeeded Deering. Friends of both players sprang between and
-the Orange youth got off with a warning from the referee. There were
-a few hisses, many “boos” and some laughter from the stands. Possibly
-the incident supplied the added incentive that allowed Yardley to break
-through a moment later and block the adversary’s kick. The ball bounded
-from the up-thrown arm of a Yardley lineman and became lost in a mass
-of struggling players and for a long moment confusion reigned. When the
-referee finally penetrated to the bottom of the squirming, grunting
-pile he found the ball snuggled in the arms of a Yardley forward. The
-Blue cheered wildly and implored a touchdown as the result became known
-to the stands, and, since the teams lined up on the Orange’s fourteen
-yards, a touchdown looked possible enough.
-
-But the Blue’s first play resulted disastrously. Clarke, who had
-taken Halliday’s place at the right end of the line, was far offside
-when the ball was snapped and the team was set back. A plunge at
-guard-tackle hole on the left gave Yardley four yards, and Snowden,
-from kick formation, managed two more around right end. Then, however,
-a forward-pass, Snowden to Bates, went wrong and Fanning dropped back
-for a try-at-goal. While both stands grew silent, Will Curran patted
-the ground and poised himself on his knees for the pass from center.
-The position was at a slight angle and the distance was less than
-twenty yards and the Blue already saw victory perched upon her banner.
-But Brown and Young’s was desperate and Yardley, perhaps, oversure,
-and when the ball came back to Curran so, too, came half the Orange
-team, and, although Fanning met the poised ball fairly, it was still
-breast-high when the enemy reached it. There was a tragic _thud_ as it
-rebounded from an onrushing player, followed by cries and the pounding
-of many feet as friend and foe took up the chase. The pursuit passed
-over Curran like a wave, leaving him writhing on the sod.
-
-Back to the thirty-yard line trickled the pigskin, and there a Brown
-and Young’s tackle scooped it up from under the nose of half a dozen
-others and sprang away toward the distant Yardley goal. But although he
-started with a clear field, and although hastily-formed interference
-grouped itself about him, he was in no condition for speed, and near
-the middle of the field Bates, eluding the interference, pulled him to
-earth.
-
-Time was taken out for Curran and he limped off, Noyes taking his
-place. From midfield, using every trick she knew, the Orange began a
-slow advance toward the Blue’s goal. Yardley fought hard but was forced
-to yield. Both teams were pretty well tuckered and after each play
-substitutes flocked in, and with their arrival the game became more
-erratic. Penalties were dealt to each side fairly impartially, signals
-were misunderstood and the play became slower and slower, and at last,
-with the ball still in Brown and Young’s possession near the home
-team’s thirty yards, the whistle sounded the end of the battle.
-
-As unsatisfactory as the outcome was, the teams parted with mutual
-respect, and when Brown and Young’s supporters formed into ranks and
-marched off the field, cheering mightily, the Blue’s partisans had
-no criticism to make. As Grover Beech put it, as he and Toby and Sid
-climbed over the barriers and joined the throng beyond, Brown and
-Young’s had played a hard, clean game and, on her showing in the last
-half, had deserved a victory.
-
-“Which,” observed Sid Creel dryly, “I am pleased to say she didn’t get!”
-
-The Brown and Young’s contest ended Yardley’s preliminary season.
-Four games remained, those with Carrel’s, Nordham, St. John’s, and
-Broadwood. Two of these, the Carrel’s and St. John’s games were to be
-played away from home. All were looked on as hard battles, although
-it might well be that none would prove harder than the contest just
-played. Brown and Young’s had been underestimated, and it was certain
-that another year her place on the Yardley schedule would be much
-further along. Still, there were no regrets over that game. Yardley
-had showed her faults in time to allow the proper remedies to take
-effect, all of her players had come through the grilling without
-serious damage and several second and third string players had found
-the opportunity to show ability. Will Curran’s injury was slight, it
-seemed, and he would be out of the game but a few days. Some over-eager
-Brown and Young’s man had trampled over his prostrate form and placed
-a heavy foot against his knee, but treatment and an elastic bandage
-would repair the damage. On the whole, Yardley Hall School, coach,
-players and noncombatants, were rather well satisfied with the recent
-engagement, and there was a general verdict to the effect that the Blue
-had been extremely fortunate to get through it without a beating.
-
-Arnold was somewhat downhearted for a day or two, maintaining sadly
-that the Orange’s score could be blamed on him, and relating the
-incident in appalling detail to Toby until the latter youth begged him
-to forget it. “No one else expected a forward-pass then,” said Toby,
-“so why should you have looked for one? Besides, it was up to Ted
-Halliday as much as to you. Cheer up and ease your face, Arn. You still
-have me to live for!”
-
-The final argument didn’t seem to make any great appeal to Arnold at
-the moment, but by Monday, after a light session on the gridiron, he
-returned to his wonted cheerfulness. That Monday witnessed what, to
-Toby at least, was a most surprising event. He learned of it after
-practice when, returning to Number 12, he found Arnold there before him.
-
-“I suppose you know about the new end we’ve acquired,” said Arnold,
-smiling broadly.
-
-“End? No, what do you mean?”
-
-“What! You haven’t missed him? Such is fame! Ain’t it sad?”
-
-“What are you jabbering about?” Toby relaxed on the window-seat with a
-sigh of weariness. “Who haven’t I missed?”
-
-“Why, your bosom friend, Mr. Tubbs, of course.”
-
-“Tubb? What about Tubb?” asked Toby suspiciously.
-
-“Then you don’t know! You haven’t heard the glad and glorious news!”
-
-“I have not, but if Tubb has fallen down and bitten his tongue――――”
-
-“Nary a fall down, old thing! Instead, Mr. Tubbs――or is it Tubb?
-Anyway, whatever his poetic name may be, he has landed on his feet.”
-
-“Has he?” Toby sounded bored and indifferent. “Well, he’s been in the
-air long enough! In just what manner, Mr. Bones, has the gentleman
-landed on his feet? Whenever you consider that the suspense has lasted
-long enough, Arn, you have my permission to shoot!”
-
-“Prepare to faint, T. Tucker! Your friend Tubbs has been ruthlessly
-torn from your arms! He’s taken over to the First!”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVII
-
-AN “ACCIDENT”
-
-
-A sense of duty is sometimes a most inconvenient thing to possess. That
-Monday night it was a sense of duty that sent Toby up to Number 31,
-and he went laggingly, feeling very certain that George Tubb would be
-more objectionable than ever. Tubb was not, Toby thought, of the kind
-who stands prosperity well. Tubb would be quite unbearable to-night:
-Toby could imagine him growling “Huh, I’d have made the First Team long
-ago if I’d had the ‘pull’ some fellows have!” But Toby felt that to an
-extent he was responsible for Tubb’s well-being, having in a manner
-started him out of his Slough of Despond, and that it was up to him to
-congratulate the other on his good fortune.
-
-The scene that met his eyes when he pushed the door open in response
-to an invitation to enter was very unlike that upon which he had gazed
-on the occasion of his first visit to Number 31. Tubb and Ramsey were
-shoulder to shoulder, Tubb seated and his roommate bending over the
-table beside him, evidently elucidating some problem contained in the
-textbook that lay open before them. To all appearances perfect amity
-reigned now in Number 31! Nor was that the only surprise awaiting
-Toby. George Tubb was still George Tubb, and probably he would never
-be anything else, but instead of “grouching” because Fortune had not
-visited him earlier, or predicting the great things that were to happen
-by reason of his elevation to the First, he seemed loath to talk of
-the matter, accepting the visitor’s congratulation with a frown and
-a muttered――and vague――“Oh, well, I don’t know. I suppose it’s all
-right.” After that he appeared to prefer other topics of conversation,
-although Toby nevertheless had the impression that the matter was in
-his thoughts most of the time.
-
-The problem in geometry that had puzzled Tubb proved a diversion and
-Toby was able to supply the needed assistance, rather to his surprise
-since of late he had begun to fear that he had forgotten most of what
-he had learned during the preceding year! After that they talked
-of various subjects, football most of all. Tubb was ready to talk
-football so long as it was general, and he had a number of criticisms
-to make of last Saturday’s contest. With some of them Toby didn’t
-agree, and arguments followed, and Toby discovered that Tubb could
-think things out clearly and state his results quite convincingly
-when he wanted to. Horace Ramsey maneuvered the talk around to tennis
-finally and asked Toby’s advice about trying for the Tennis Team.
-
-“I didn’t do so badly in the handicaps last week,” he explained. “Got
-as far as the semi-finals, anyway. Beat two or three fellows who are
-considered rather good, too. How do you set about making the Team,
-Tucker?”
-
-Toby didn’t know and said so, but he promised to find out and let
-Ramsey know, and after that he took his departure. Both boys, without
-saying so in words, managed to convey to him the impression that they
-had enjoyed his visit and wanted him to come again. He went downstairs
-feeling very well pleased with himself for having performed a
-disagreeable duty and a little surprised at finding that it hadn’t been
-disagreeable after all! “I guess,” he told himself as he clattered down
-the stairs, “a good many disagreeable things are like that. You think
-they’re a lot worse than they are.”
-
-The First Team paid a good deal of attention to defense that week, a
-branch of football science that had been somewhat neglected by Coach
-Lyle in favor of attack, and the Second was called on four afternoons
-to aid, the big team working, contrary to custom, quite as hard on
-Friday as on any other day. It was on Wednesday that Toby had his first
-chance to see Tubb in action with the First. Tubb made his entry in the
-middle of a very strenuous second half, relieving Meadows. Sandford,
-who had started the season at left end, appeared to be out of the
-running. Tubb did well. Toby was rather amazed at the boy’s playing,
-and his respect for Grover Beech as a judge of football talent went
-up a peg. Beech had called Tubb “a natural-born end,” and, while Toby
-had little intimate knowledge of end playing, he thought that Beech
-had been quite right. Tubb acted as if he had played football for
-several seasons. He appeared to have unlimited confidence――in fact,
-his confidence looked almost like effrontery at times――and absolutely
-no physical fear, hurling himself into every play he could reach
-regardless of consequences. He had a way of keeping in motion every
-minute while in the line-up that, although it was rather wearisome to
-the spectator, kept his adversary in wholesome fear. And he could run
-like a ferret, too, and although he still missed tackles rather too
-frequently, he proved a thorn in the side of Toby and his team-mates
-when catching punts. Somehow, Tubb was always on hand when the ball had
-dropped into Toby’s arms, and if Toby squirmed himself free more than
-once it was only because Tubb had yet something to learn of the gentle
-art of tackling. Toby found himself a bit proud of George Tubb, quite
-as though he was personally accountable for that youth’s attainments!
-
-The Second went through some gruelling work that week, for the most
-part assaulting the First’s defenses with every art and artifice at
-her command. Time and again the ball was taken away from the First and
-handed back to the Second, the coaches demanding that she put it over,
-every one, as it seemed, conniving at the First Team’s humiliation.
-Perhaps once during a game the First was allowed to show her prowess
-in attack, and the rest of the time she was back to the wall with the
-Second banging at her center, jabbing her tackles, skirting her ends,
-trying every possible means to penetrate her defenses. The result
-showed before the end of the week arrived. The First developed a
-savage, bitter, every-hand-against-me attitude that worked wonders.
-On Thursday she was thrice set her five yards and told to hold the
-opponent, and twice she did it, which, considering that both coaches
-egged on the Second and tried every device they could think of to make
-her attack more effective, was none so bad. Even on Friday, with a hard
-game against Carrel’s School looming up on the morrow, the First was
-hammered and banged about by the Second, which, having come in for a
-good many hard knocks and much rough usage, was in none too gentle a
-mood. It was on Friday that an incident occurred which, unimportant in
-itself, led to strange results.
-
-Frick was playing quarter on the Second and Tubb had taken the place of
-an exhausted Meadows at left end on the First. First, unable to gain
-her distance in three downs in midfield, punted and the ball fell to
-Frick in front of Second’s goal. Both Tubb and Halliday had got free
-and were well under the ball as it arched down the field, but Halliday
-fell victim to Deering, leaving Tubb to look after Frick alone. Frick
-made the catch a moment before Tubb arrived on the scene and set off
-to his right in the hope of skirting the enemy pouring down the middle
-of the field. Tubb gave chase, running him off. Frick feinted but Tubb
-wasn’t fooled. Had the quarter-back been able to get free soon after
-making the catch he might have reeled off a good gain, for the gridiron
-to his right was practically unguarded, but Tubb had him so well
-blocked that there was no getting by and it was only when the side-line
-came dangerously near that Frick made a despairing effort to turn in.
-He pulled up suddenly and tried to dash past Tubb, but the First Team
-end was quicker than he was. Avoiding the runner’s straight-arm, Tubb
-dived and, for once, dived surely. He didn’t have to hold his man after
-the tackle, for by that time he had plenty of help, and Frick was
-speedily flattened out. On his feet again, Frick was very angry indeed,
-and panted insults and threats at Tubb’s retreating back until Beech
-silenced him.
-
-Unaware that he had aroused Frick’s wrath, Tubb trotted back to his
-position. Two savage attacks on the First Team’s line netted but four
-yards and then Stover punted. Tubb was spilled trying to stop the
-opposing end and was climbing to his feet when the Second’s stragglers
-streamed past. Among them was Frick, for some reason later in getting
-down the field than he should have been. Only a few saw what happened
-as Frick reached Tubb, for most eyes were fixed on Noyes as he got
-under the ball. Toby, however, saw from where he sat on the bench, for
-Frick’s performance was of more interest to him than any one’s else,
-and just now Toby was wondering why his rival was almost the last in
-the pursuit. Tubb, in the act of raising himself from the ground,
-did not see Frick’s approach, nor, since he was unsuspecting, would
-he have heeded it if he had seen it. Frick had set a course that led
-him past the other, and now, as he reached him, he swerved a pace and
-brought one heavily-shod foot against Tubb’s ribs just under the left
-shoulder. It was as deliberate a thing as Toby had ever seen, and
-unconsciously he jumped to his feet with an exclamation of disgust.
-Tubb, supported at the moment on his left hand, dropped instantly to
-the turf and rolled over on his back, his legs drawn up in pain. Frick
-was already well down the field. Toby and Lovett, a substitute end, ran
-on together. Tubb was white-faced and gasping, both hands clasped to
-his side.
-
-“Some one――kicked me,” he whispered. “I’ll be――all right in a――minute.”
-
-“It was Frick,” exclaimed Lovett indignantly. “I saw it. He ought to
-get chucked!”
-
-“Frick!” gasped Tubb wonderingly. “What――for?”
-
-By that time Andy Ryan was there with pail and sponge and Toby and
-Lovett went back to the bench, the latter still sputtering.
-
-“He’s a poisonous pup, anyway, Tucker, and I hope Tubb goes after him
-and gets him for that!”
-
-“Well, I wouldn’t say much about it,” counseled Toby. “It’ll only make
-trouble. It’s between the two of them now. Let them settle it.”
-
-“Sure, it isn’t my funeral,” Lovett agreed, “though I don’t see why
-you’re so anxious about Frick. If Mr. Burtis had seen it Frick would be
-off for keeps, and you’d have quarter-back cinched, Tucker.”
-
-“Well, I don’t want to cinch it that way, I guess. Besides, it may have
-been an accident. I know it didn’t look it, but――――”
-
-“Accident your great-aunt!” jeered the other. “Why, Frick went out of
-his way to do it! And he sure took a chance. I’ll give him that much
-credit. If any one but you and I had seen it――Good-night, Mr. Frick!”
-
-“Guess he knew every one would be looking the other way. Tubb’s up and
-Andy’s taking him off. Hope he didn’t get a broken rib. That was a
-fierce wallop he got!”
-
-“I’d hand Roy Frick a fierce wallop if it was me,” growled Lovett.
-“I’d hand him about two dozen of ’em!”
-
-Tubb was helped into his sweater and sent back to the gymnasium and the
-game went on. Since Frick played the half out at quarter, Toby judged
-that none had witnessed the incident save he and Lovett. Toby forgot
-it later, for in the last fifteen-minute half he went in on the Second
-and had his hands and his mind too full of other things. But that some
-one still remembered was evident when Toby got back to his room after
-practice. George Tubb had left a note.
-
- Dear Tucker: If you have time will you come up to my room a
- minute after supper? I want to see you about something. G. W. T.
-
-Toby guessed what the something was and wondered whether he was to be
-asked to bear a challenge to Roy Frick! He rather wished that Tubb had
-selected some one else to consult, but he went nevertheless, climbing
-the second flight in Whitson as soon after supper as he judged Tubb
-had returned to Number 31. He found both Tubb and Ramsey at home,
-but Horace went out after a few minutes, possibly by request. Tubb,
-reflected Toby, was quite a different looking boy from the one whose
-cut lip he had plastered on the train that afternoon some five weeks
-ago. For one thing, he looked a deal cleaner! And he was rather more
-carefully dressed. But the real change was deeper, Toby thought.
-Tubb’s attitude toward his fellows and his school life had undergone a
-change already, and the end was not yet; and the fact was manifested
-in his expression and his speech. Tubb had gained in self-respect,
-Toby concluded. Physically, too, he had altered, and for the better,
-for football work had straightened his shoulders, made his flesh look
-harder and his eyes clearer and removed the unhealthy pallor from his
-face. On the whole, Toby got quite a lot of satisfaction from his study
-of George W. Tubb this evening.
-
-But it was a very serious Tubb who confronted Toby when the door had
-closed behind Horace Ramsey. There was very evidently something on the
-Tubb mind. Toby waited in silence and after a moment Tubb began. “That
-fellow with you this afternoon――Lovett, wasn’t it?――said it was Frick
-who kicked me in the side. Did you see him do it, Tucker?”
-
-“Why――well, yes, I did, Tubb. Of course it was probably an accident――――”
-
-“How could it have been?” Tubb’s old scowl returned for an instant.
-“He had the whole field, didn’t he? He needn’t have run over me! No,
-I guess what happened was that he got mad because I stopped him from
-running the punt back that time. I guess he’s got a bad temper, Frick.
-Well, anyway, what I wanted to ask you is this. What’s the right way to
-go after him? They say faculty won’t stand for fighting, but of course
-a fellow’s got to pull a scrap sometimes. I’m going to get Frick for
-this, but I don’t want to get fired, you see. He isn’t worth it.”
-
-“Of course he isn’t,” agreed Toby heartily. “And I’m afraid you would
-get――well, maybe not fired, Tubb, but put on probation at least if
-faculty found out.”
-
-“And probation would lose me my place on the team, wouldn’t it? That’s
-what I supposed. Well, then, how would you go about it, Tucker? So as
-not to be nabbed, I mean.”
-
-“Why, I don’t know. Why not――well, why not forget it, Tubb? After all
-a fellow who does things like that harms himself more than he does any
-one else, and――――”
-
-“Yah!” interrupted Tubb rudely. “Sunday school stuff, Tucker! I’ll bet
-you wouldn’t talk that way if it was you who had half a dozen sore ribs
-some guy had given you!”
-
-“Well, maybe I wouldn’t,” granted Toby, “but I’d hesitate a long time
-before I’d risk probation for the sake of fighting him! And that’s what
-you’d better do.”
-
-“Listen here, Tucker,” replied the other earnestly. “I’m going to get
-even with that fellow. I didn’t give him any cause to kick my ribs in.
-Even if I had, he’d no right to do it when I was down like that. What I
-want to know is how you fight a fellow here. I guess there are fights:
-I never heard of a school where they didn’t pull ’em off now and then.”
-Tubb viewed Toby hopefully.
-
-“Maybe there are,” said Toby, “but I’ve never seen one. I suppose
-fellows get off by themselves somewhere sometimes,” he continued
-vaguely. “But if faculty hears of it――――”
-
-“Have to risk that,” said Tubb, more cheerfully. He was silent a
-moment. Then: “Of course what I wanted to do was wait around at the
-gym this afternoon and hand him a few, but I had a hunch that Lyle or
-some one would be there and get peeved. So I didn’t. Then this evening
-I caught him grinning at me in commons once. That grin’s going to cost
-him something, believe me, Tucker!”
-
-“But look here, Tubb,” said Toby practically, “Frick’s two years older
-than you, I guess, and he’s bigger and heavier, and fellows say he’s a
-scrapper. I don’t know how good you are, but――――” Toby cast a dubious
-glance over the other’s rather meager frame――“it’s something to think
-about, isn’t it?”
-
-“How long did you think about it when Frick got gay with you down at
-the field the other day?” asked Tubb, with a twinkle in his eye.
-
-“Not at all,” answered Toby, smiling. “But then, there wasn’t time!”
-
-“Huh! Well, don’t you worry about me, Tucker. I can handle that big
-bully. I’ve had to scrap all my life, pretty near, and I know the
-tricks. Besides, I’ve got right on my side, ain’t――haven’t I? And that
-counts, doesn’t it?”
-
-“It ought to,” the other agreed, “but I wouldn’t count too much on it.”
-
-“Where does Frick room?” asked Tubb after a moment.
-
-“I don’t know.” Toby frowned a minute. Then: “Look here, Tubb, let’s
-talk sense,” he expostulated. “Never mind whether faculty finds out or
-doesn’t. You say you’re willing to risk that. But if you beat Frick up
-or if he beats you up, Tom Fanning will hear of it, even if the coaches
-don’t. And Fanning will drop you from the team like a――a hot potato!”
-
-“I don’t see why he should,” Tubb objected. “It’s not his affair,
-Tucker.”
-
-“Why isn’t it? It’s his affair if you or any other fellow on the team
-breaks training. If Frick lays you up for a day or two――――”
-
-“Huh! Like to see him do it!”
-
-“Never mind, it’s possible. You’d be a fat lot of use to the team,
-wouldn’t you? Well, that’s where it becomes Fan’s business, Tubb. Just
-as long as you’re on the team it’s your duty to go by the rules.”
-
-“Is there any rule saying you mustn’t knock a fellow down after he’s
-kicked you in the slats?”
-
-“Don’t be a chump! No, there isn’t, but there’s a general rule that
-says you must keep yourself in trim so you’ll be able to do your best
-for the team and the school. And when you fight another chap you’re
-taking chances you haven’t the right to take. Besides, Tubb, there’s
-another thing. You’re disturbing the――the――――”
-
-“Well, didn’t Frick disturb the same thing, whatever it is, when he
-kicked me this afternoon? Think he helped keep me in trim, like you
-say? Well, I don’t!”
-
-“Frick took an awful chance and got away with it, but I don’t think
-that’s any reason you should. Hang it, Tubb, you’ve made the First Team
-and you’ve got a great chance of playing against Broadwood, and that’s
-something a lot of fellows would give their eye-teeth for! Don’t go and
-spoil it by having a mix-up with this chap. If you must get even with
-him, wait until the football season’s over, anyway. He won’t get away.”
-
-Tubb scowled. “I might forget it by that time,” he objected.
-
-Toby laughed. “All the better then! Take a chance on that, anyhow. Will
-you?”
-
-Tubb hesitated, the scowl still lingering. At last: “I might,” he
-answered, “I’ll see.” Then, after a moment: “I’d sort of hate to lose
-my job with the team, Tucker,” he said frankly, “and that’s a fact. You
-could have knocked me flat with a feather when they yanked me onto the
-First. I――I guess I talked a lot of rot about ‘pull’ and that sort of
-thing, because there wasn’t any pull about my getting on the First, was
-there? It was just my playing. Not that I think I’m anything wonderful,
-Tucker. Halliday’s better than I am, and maybe Meadows is, too, but I’m
-going to beat him out for the place if I bust a leg doing it!”
-
-“That’s the way to talk,” approved Toby warmly. “And if you feel that
-way about it, Tubb, I don’t see how you can think of risking your
-chance. Why, Frick isn’t worth it!”
-
-“Maybe that’s so,” agreed Tubb thoughtfully. “Just the same, if that
-pup looks cross-eyed at me again, or tries to get fresh――――”
-
-“Keep out of his way,” laughed Toby.
-
-“Huh! I guess not! He’d think I was scared of him.”
-
-“Let him. After the Broadwood game you can show him you’re not. That’s
-a bargain, then?”
-
-“I don’t promise,” said Tubb, “but as long as he behaves himself I
-guess I’ll let him alone. Say, Tucker, I suppose you wouldn’t want
-to――to sort of explain to him how it is, eh? So he wouldn’t think he
-was getting away with it!”
-
-“Frankly, I would not, Tubb,” answered Toby, smiling. “Just forget all
-about him and remember Broadwood. That’s your game!”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVIII
-
-A QUARTER-BACK RUN
-
-
-The Second Team had a schedule of its own, although it wasn’t very
-lengthy. It consisted of two games, the first with Greenburg High
-School and the second with Latimer High School. The Greenburg game came
-off the afternoon that the First played Carrel’s, and in consequence
-Toby missed the latter contest. He didn’t mind that, however, for he
-had a busy and enjoyable time in Greenburg. Besides, he got the full
-and detailed story of the Carrel game from Arnold that evening and the
-next day and for one or two days after that. Arnold was very full of
-football just now and threatened to be somewhat of a bore until the
-Broadwood contest was done with!
-
-The Greenburg athletic field lay on the side of town away from the
-river and Yardley and was a rather uneven piece of turf enclosed by a
-dilapidated high board fence. There was a running track, badly in need
-of cinders and attention, two weather-stained stands and an unpainted
-shack that did duty as a dressing-room. The game was not very important
-from a Greenburg standpoint, and the attendance this afternoon was
-not large. Usually Greenburg won from the Yardley Second Team without
-much difficulty, and although this fall High School had heard stories
-of unusual prowess on the Second Team’s part she was still not much
-worried. Being a half holiday at the various mills and factories, of
-which Greenburg held many, the “tough” element of the town――or city,
-since that is what Greenburg officially was――was well represented.
-The mill operatives who had paid their quarters for admittance to the
-game were strongly pro-High School in their sympathies. Or perhaps
-it would be nearer the truth to say that they were enthusiastically
-anti-Yardley. In their belief all Yardley students were silk-stockinged
-snobs, which, while far from the fact, was enough to set the mill crowd
-against the school. They came supplied with peanuts and, perhaps a
-hundred in number, took possession of one of the small, tumble-down
-stands and made their presence known right from the start. But aside
-from shouting weird cheers for Greenburg, singing, parodying the
-Yardley slogan in mincing falsetto and shying an occasional peanut at
-the visitors’ bench in front of them, they kept the peace during most
-of the game.
-
-Captain Beech wanted to win to-day’s contest, since last year High
-School had caught the Blue team in a slump and triumphed decisively
-over it by a memorable score of 38 to 6, and so, with Coach Burtis’s
-permission, the Second started with the best line-up she could devise.
-Mr. Burtis had awarded himself a vacation and gone home over the
-week-end, leaving the captain in undisputed authority. Toby didn’t get
-into the game until the third period was well along, for Frick, who had
-started it, played his best and a touchdown by Yardley in the first
-five minutes of play gave the visitors an advantage that the home team
-was not able to overcome in the initial half. The Blue defense was
-too much for the High School eleven although the latter had plenty of
-talent in its ranks and played a stiff, hard attack. On the other hand,
-Yardley had her troubles with the High School line, and that single
-touchdown had been more than half luck. A fortunate forward pass from
-the middle of the field had put the Blue within striking distance of
-High School’s goal and a penalty for holding had given her five yards
-more. Then Frick had fumbled and Nelson had followed the trickling ball
-back, and, having captured it, found a chance around High School’s
-left. He should have been stopped half a dozen times, but somehow he
-sifted through the enemy ranks and landed the pigskin up against the
-left-hand post before he was brought down.
-
-High School accepted her mishap cheerfully and set to work to do a
-little scoring on her own behalf, but the half ended without the
-ball’s having approached either goal again. The second half was eight
-minutes old when Captain Beech found that Frick’s work was becoming
-slow and uncertain and sent him off. High School had forced the ball
-to Yardley’s thirty-one yards and still had possession when Toby went
-in. He was followed a minute later by Lovett, who was called on to
-strengthen the right end of the Blue’s line, around which High School
-had made several gains since the period had begun. Lovett, however,
-proved no more able to stop those gains than had Connell, and High
-School swept on to the Blue’s twenty-yard-line in three plays and set
-her supporters shouting triumphantly. With the cheers of the High
-School students came approving yells from the mill contingent; hoarse
-cries of “Eat ’em up, Greenburg!” “Kill the sissies!” “Put it over,
-Greenburg!” Then, with a score almost won, the High School left end
-was caught hugging Stover affectionately to his breast, and High
-School was set back fifteen yards. The mill hands didn’t approve of
-that and made it known loudly and continuously, hissing and whistling
-and hurling sarcastic remarks at the referee. After two plays which
-netted only short gains, High School tried a drop-kick from her thirty
-yards and failed badly.
-
-The mill operatives still had hurt feelings and were now howling
-continuously. The referee was accused of favoritism, treachery and
-several other faults, and Yardley of being “pikers” and “yellow dogs.”
-Matters became no more peaceful when Toby, getting the kick-off just
-short of his five-yard-line, dodged it back to his twenty-three. Watson
-went in for Sid Creel at center a minute or two later and Toby began
-a systematic assault on High School’s middle positions. Stover gained
-consistently and White ploughed through less frequently but for longer
-gains. High School changed center and left guard and Toby switched his
-attack to the right guard and tackle. There, however, he had less luck,
-and, well into High School territory now, he called for a forward, and
-White, from kicking position, threw successfully to Mawson on High
-School’s nineteen, a long hard heave that brought applause even from
-the enemy. Mawson reached the sixteen yards before he was tackled and
-the fourteen before he was stopped.
-
-The third period ended and the teams changed sides. High School fought
-desperately to hold her opponent and the attack was thrice piled up for
-little or no gain. Choosing between the possible loss of the ball and a
-possible three points from a field-goal, Toby selected the latter and
-Beech went back for the kick. But High School tore through the Yardley
-left and blocked the ball sufficiently to deflect it harmlessly to the
-right. That incident gladdened the mill hands considerably and they
-cheered hoarsely.
-
-High School tried a forward-pass on first down and got away with it
-for twelve yards. Plunges at the line netted her a second first down.
-Three subsequent attacks left her four yards shy of her distance and
-she punted to Yardley’s thirty. There Stover caught and ran back to
-the thirty-seven. He was hurt in the tackle and gave place to Lippman.
-Toby tried a quarter-back run after a delayed pass and made a scanty
-five yards after going half across the field. High School held against
-two plunges and White punted outside at the enemy’s twenty-eight.
-High School uncorked a puzzling open formation play that sent the
-full-back around her short end without interference and almost got him
-free. But Lippman secured the runner after a fifteen-yard advance. A
-forward-pass went wrong and, after attempting each end, High School
-punted. Lippman juggled the catch, recovered it and was downed for no
-gain on his twenty yards. Toby called on White and made seven straight
-through High School’s center, and Lippman went outside right tackle
-for four more and the distance. Then, with the end of the game drawing
-near, Lippman punted on second down from his thirty to High School’s
-thirty-eight. Again the latter tried her open formation play, but this
-time Yardley was prepared and the runner was downed for an eight-yard
-loss. A forward-pass gave High School ten and a wide end run two more.
-Then came Waterloo, for a High School back, plunging toward the Yardley
-right tackle, lost the pigskin as he struck the line and the ball
-bounded merrily into the air, crossed the heaving lines and was pulled
-down by Nelson.
-
-The best the Blue’s left half could do was hold tight to his prize,
-for half the opposing team was on top of him in the moment. But it was
-Yardley’s ball on High School’s forty-nine yards, and, with less than
-two minutes remaining, the game was as good as won. Captain Beech ran
-in four substitutes, about all he had left, and on the first play, one
-of them, Crawford, at full-back, went through the Greenburg line like a
-streak of lightning and dodged all but the quarter-back, planting the
-ball on High School’s thirty-two yards when he was captured. A penalty
-for off-side on the next play set Yardley back, but Lippman carried the
-pigskin around left end for three and Crawford made three more, and,
-on fourth down, faking a kick from placement, Toby took the ball and
-scampered off around the Greenburg right behind good interference and
-might have crossed the goal line had he not, as he put it later, fallen
-over his own feet! The stumble allowed a pursuing High School player to
-drag him down six yards short of the last white streak.
-
-Then came a heart-stirring climax to a contest that had never failed
-of interest. The stands had emptied ere this and the audience had been
-following the game along the side-lines. Now it congregated at the
-corner of the field nearest the play, flowing over onto the gridiron
-in spite of the efforts of a few ineffectual officials. In the front
-of the throng were the mill operatives, noisy and unfriendly to the
-besiegers, more than willing, it seemed, to take a hand in the game.
-Toby and Grover Beech consulted while the crowd jeered and hooted.
-Toby wanted to try a forward-pass over the line, but Captain Beech
-was fearful of it save as a last resort, and it was decided to batter
-the opponent’s line so long as gains resulted and then, faking a
-try-at-goal, attempt a short pass over the center.
-
-Toby called on Crawford and sent him banging at the enemy’s
-guard-tackle hole on the left. But the hole didn’t develop and the gain
-was less than a yard. Beech sent Crawford out and brought in Lansing,
-a heavy youngster whose slowness had kept him on the bench most of the
-season. The unfriendly critics, edging over the bounds, made scurrilous
-remarks anent Lansing’s personal appearance and had that poor youth,
-already made nervous by the honor so unexpectedly thrust upon him, a
-mass of blushes by the time he was in position. But blushes didn’t take
-away from Lansing’s weight or strength, and, with Lippman carrying the
-pigskin, Lansing thrust the runner through for three of the remaining
-five yards. There was some rough playing in that fracas, and Toby
-discovered that he had sustained a very ensanguined nose. On third
-down, with just over two yards to go, Lippman tried a cross-buck and
-squirmed over the crouched backs of the foe for another three feet,
-amidst an appalling shouting from the belligerent onlookers. The mill
-contingent was now so close behind the defenders that it was hard to
-tell who was a player and who a spectator, and Captain Beech called
-for time and pointed out the fact. The Greenburg players tried to push
-the throng back, but, although it good-naturedly shuffled a few yards
-away, it pressed forward once more as soon as the teams again lined up.
-The referee and umpire scolded and threatened to call the game, but
-were only hooted at. To the credit of the High School students present
-it may be said that they did nothing to encourage the mill hands and
-themselves remained, if not outside the field, at least away from the
-scene of play. In the end, finding pleas and threats alike idle, the
-referee let the game go on.
-
-“We’ll never score against that mob,” whispered Beech disgustedly to
-Toby. “They’ll jump in and push us back. Might as well call it off. I
-don’t want any mix-up with those muckers!”
-
-Toby nodded agreement, viewing the grinning, inimical countenances
-grouped behind the opposing line thoughtfully. Then: “Let me work this,
-cap, will you? I think there’s just one chance!”
-
-“Go ahead,” said Beech, “but you’ll never make a forward with that gang
-back there to get in the way.”
-
-“No, a forward’s no good, but――Signals! Come on now, Yardley! One more
-punch! Signals! 31――51――27――――”
-
-“_Signals!_” cried Lippman wildly, questioningly.
-
-“Shut up!” hissed Toby. “Change signals! 61――54――27――9! 61――54――――”
-
-Forward plunged the backs, away sped Toby, scuttling along the back of
-the short line, the ball snuggled in his elbow. Cries and grunts and
-the rasping of canvas-clad bodies filled the air. Then a shriek from an
-excited, despairing high school spectator: “_There he goes! Get him,
-you mutts!_”
-
-The play had been close to the left-hand corner of the field and the
-onlookers had crowded there, along the side-line for a short distance,
-but principally back of the goal-line. At the other side of the goal,
-save for a sprinkling of High School girls and their escorts, the field
-was clear. Toward this side of the gridiron sped Toby. Only Lovett,
-throwing his opponent in as he plunged through, went with him. But the
-right end was sufficient. A Greenburg back met him and the two sprawled
-to the turf together, and Toby, turning on his heel, headed swiftly
-in. A yard or two short of the line he dodged the only remaining
-opposition, a despairing High School quarter, and circled back toward
-the goal. But now there were plenty to challenge. A High School player
-clutched at him and missed and then Toby found himself in a struggling
-sea of angry mill operatives. Farquhar tried to reach him, but was
-pushed aside, and a dozen hands fought for the ball. Toby clung to it
-as tightly as he could and sought to fight his way forward, but the
-crowd was ugly. Some one struck him on the mouth and, as his head went
-back, the ball was dislodged. The yells about him merged in a laugh of
-triumph and, shoved aside, he sank to the ground, while the mill crowd
-went piling off toward the entrance, the ball in their possession. None
-tried to stop them.
-
-The officials allowed the touchdown, but Captain Beech, helping a
-battered Toby to his feet, declined the privilege of trying goal
-with another ball. “Had enough, thanks,” he said coldly. Then, to an
-apologetic and regretful Greenburg Captain: “This is the last game you
-fellows will get with us, Townsend. Come on, Yardley! Never mind the
-cheer!”
-
-Toby was not the only one of the visiting team who had sustained a
-memento of that closing minute. Three other fellows who had sought to
-reach him had been punched, or kicked, and, including such slighter
-injuries as had fallen to the Yardley Second during the game, it was a
-somewhat messed up aggregation that journeyed back to Wissining that
-afternoon. The last they saw of the mill hands they were having a
-remarkable football game with the stolen ball in the road outside the
-field, too busy to more than hoot at the visitors as they passed.
-
-“I’d like to fetch a couple of dozen more fellows down here and wipe
-the ground up with them,” muttered Beech. “Bet you that’s our last game
-with Greenburg for awhile, Toby.”
-
-Toby didn’t offer to accept the wager, which was fortunate for his
-modest resources since, a few days later, the Yardley faculty, having
-probed the incident, struck Greenburg High School from the list of
-approved opponents.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIX
-
-ARNOLD HAS A THOUGHT
-
-
-The First Team came back hard that afternoon, rolling up a total of 25
-points against Carrel’s and holding the opponent to a single touchdown.
-Yardley scored in each period, starting in the first with a field-goal
-shortly after play began, adding a touchdown and goal in the second,
-a touchdown in the third and another field-goal and touchdown in the
-last. Carrel’s did her scoring in the third period, following a fumble
-in the back-field by Quarterback Noyes. Securing the ball on Yardley’s
-twenty-two yards, the visitor worked a double pass that sent her
-full-back romping over the line without much opposition. She failed at
-an easy goal, however, and had to be content with six points.
-
-Of course Toby heard all this and much more from Arnold that evening,
-for Arnold was as full of the game’s details as a plum-pudding is full
-of raisins――or ought to be! But it was after Toby had sketched the
-Second Team’s fracas with the mill hands, for Toby’s face demanded an
-explanation. Besides a contused nose, honestly earned in combat, he
-had a large lump on his left cheek bone. “Some day, maybe,” he said
-wistfully, “I’m going to meet up with the fellow who handed me that.
-When I do, if it isn’t in church, I’m going to hand it back to him.”
-
-“Think you’d know him?” asked Arnold. “Thought you said it was a mob,
-and that――――”
-
-“It was a mob, but I saw the chap that walloped me. Yes, I’ll know him
-all right if only by his hair.”
-
-“What about his hair?”
-
-“It was――――” Toby hesitated――“it was red!”
-
-Arnold whooped delightedly. “What do you know? Honest, Toby? Say, I’d
-like to have seen that! Red against――hm――――”
-
-“Say it,” said Toby, grinning. “His was redder than mine, too, and
-that’s going some! And he had freckles all over his nose and looked
-like one of those tough boys in the movies. Yes, I’ll know him. Don’t
-you worry.”
-
-“Well, you’d better bathe that lump he gave you. It makes you look
-sort of lopsided. In fact, T. Tucker, that and your nose give you
-a positively villainous appearance! Frank’s got a hard-looking phiz
-to-night, too. Some one put a foot on it, he says. I told him he should
-be more careful and not leave his face lying around on the ground, but
-it didn’t seem to make a hit with him. Some folks are like that; can’t
-take advice for a cent. Say, Toby, old thing, it was some game. Listen!
-They won the toss and gave us the kick-off and Larry――――”
-
-Arnold had started, and Toby laid back on the window-seat and hugged
-his knees and said “Uh-huh” at intervals and listened as attentively as
-he could. But presently he got to thinking about his morrow’s letter
-home, and then about that scholarship after the mid-year, and was
-yanked back to the present by Arnold’s: “Isn’t that the very dickens,
-Toby?”
-
-“Huh? Oh, yes, mighty tough! Who did you say did it?”
-
-“I don’t know who did it! What do you mean, did it? It was the hurt he
-got in the Brown and Young’s game, I tell you. They thought it was all
-right, and they took the bandage off and everything, and then to-day he
-just gave it a twist or something!”
-
-“Who did?”
-
-“Why, Curran! Say, haven’t you heard anything I’ve been saying?”
-
-“Of course! But you talk so fast! As I understand it, Curran got hurt
-in last Saturday’s game and to-day he twisted his ankle――――”
-
-“It’s his knee, you idiot!”
-
-“I meant knee; and had to quit playing. Who went in for him?”
-
-“Errol Noyes. He did well enough except for a fumble that gave them
-their score. If it hadn’t been for that we’d have――――”
-
-“Fumbles will happen in the best regulated back-fields,” murmured Toby.
-“I think Noyes is pretty good, myself.”
-
-“I’m not saying he isn’t,” answered Arnold impatiently, “but,
-man-alive, he isn’t in Will’s class! And if Will doesn’t get back――――”
-
-“Doesn’t get back! Who says he won’t get back?”
-
-“That’s what Fanning thinks. He’s all cut-up about it. They’re going to
-take an X-ray to-morrow. The doc thinks he will have to keep off it for
-a month.”
-
-“Gee, that is tough! I didn’t realize what you meant! Of course, Noyes
-isn’t the player that Curran is, but he’s pretty good. Who else have
-you got?”
-
-“Winfield, but he’s no earthly use.” Arnold was gloomily silent for a
-moment. Then he gave vent to an explosive: “_By jingo, Toby!_”
-
-“What?” Toby brought a startled gaze back from the darkening world
-outside the window. Arnold was staring at him fixedly.
-
-“Nothing,” answered Arnold slowly. But he kept on staring in a curious,
-rapt way until Toby said in a patient, kindly voice: “It’s all right,
-Arn. It’s me, Toby. I room here with you, you know. That’s my bed over
-there. Don’t you remember me? Try to think, Arn!”
-
-“Shut up,” laughed the other. “I――I just thought of something.”
-
-“Try to forget it then,” Toby advised. “You looked like a sick cow.
-Say, you――you didn’t get a blow on the head this afternoon, did you?
-Sometimes an injury of that sort――But no, it wouldn’t affect you that
-way. That dome of yours would just give forth a hollow sound――――”
-
-“Listen,” interrupted Arnold earnestly. “If Curran _is_ out of the game
-for the rest of the season, why, don’t you see what might happen?”
-
-“Yes, we might get licked by Broadwood. Still, we may anyhow, so what’s
-the good of――――”
-
-“Oh, use your bean! We’ll have to find a substitute for Noyes, of
-course! Maybe Mr. Lyle will try Clarke. Sim’s not much of an end, and
-he played quarter some last year. But then again he might go to the
-Second for what he needs.”
-
-“Who, Clarke?”
-
-“No, Mr. Lyle, you ninny. And if he did he might pick you, T. Tucker!”
-
-“Yes, and he might not,” jeered Toby. “Frick’s got first call, you poor
-old dummy.”
-
-“I’m not so sure! I’ve heard that you were doing just as good work as
-Frick, Toby.”
-
-“Oh, you hear a lot of things if you let your ears flap,” answered Toby
-rudely.
-
-“The idea doesn’t interest you, then?” asked Arnold sarcastically.
-
-“I wouldn’t say that,” Toby replied, getting a new grip on his knees.
-“I have a comprehensive intellect, Arn, and all sorts of things that
-wouldn’t appeal to ordinary minds――――”
-
-“Oh, go to thunder! I hope Frick does get it, you poor fish!”
-
-“May the best man win,” said Toby cheerfully. “Them’s my sentiments.
-Come on. Let’s eat.”
-
-By Monday it was pretty generally known that Will Curran was lost
-to the football team for the rest of the season. The injury to his
-knee sustained in the Brown and Young’s game had proved far more
-serious than at first supposed and an X-ray examination had shown
-that a cast was necessary. To be sure, the Greenburg surgeon, called
-into consultation by the school doctor, spoke vaguely of “benefits
-reasonably to be expected from a fortnight’s care,” but no one was
-fooled, least of all Curran. By the middle of the week he was out on
-crutches, but he was there to help in the coaching of the backs and not
-to play. The blow was a sore one to the school, and for several days
-gloom a foot thick hung over it. Then, since Coach Lyle went on about
-his business of developing a winning football team quite as cheerfully
-and whole-heartedly as ever, and since Errol Noyes buckled down and
-worked like a Trojan to fill Curran’s shoes, the gloom thinned out and
-vanished altogether. After all, the reports from Broadwood were far
-from disheartening: not the newspaper stuff written by the Broadwood
-correspondents, but the underground rumors that percolated somehow from
-the rival school through Greenburg and thence up the hill to Yardley.
-Broadwood was but three miles beyond Greenburg, and since her students
-came to that town for purchases and amusement, just as Yardley fellows
-did, stories were bound to leak out. The local rumors just now had it
-that Broadwood was having much difficulty in filling her back-field
-with the right material. In fact, the rumors were borne out by the
-evidence of the last two contests in which the Green had taken part.
-For Broadwood to be defeated by Franklin was something unheard of and
-unthought of, but that had happened two weeks since. And last Saturday,
-in the Nordham game, she had managed to squeeze through to victory
-by a mere seven points. So, as the more optimistic of the Yardley
-enthusiasts pointed out, even the loss of Curran was not sufficient
-cause for conceding a Broadwood victory.
-
-Coach Lyle did as Arnold had surmised he might do. He took Sim Clarke
-from the ranks of the end substitutes and turned him back into a
-quarter, and it was generally allowed that, with Curran coaching him,
-Sim might develop into a valuable player. Meanwhile, Noyes worked
-fairly satisfactorily. Indeed, in the Nordham game the next Saturday
-he ran the team so well that even Tom Fanning took heart and stopped
-predicting to a few close friends――comprising most of the team!――a
-victory for the rival school. Toby heard from Sid Creel that Roy
-Frick was so certain of being taken to the First that he had tried
-to persuade Phil Stone to give him the First Team signal code! That,
-Frick had explained, was so he could take hold without loss of time.
-Toby had not put much value on Arnold’s suggestion that one T. Tucker
-might be elevated to the varsity ranks and consequently was not at all
-disappointed.
-
-The Second took a beating every time it went against the First
-nowadays, for the latter was fast rounding into late season form. Now
-and again it managed to throw a scare into Coach Lyle’s bunch, but
-that is the best it could do. Ordinarily, if it kept the First to two
-scores, or managed to score itself, it swaggered quite sickeningly.
-Toby and Frick still struggled for supremacy, with little to choose
-between them, it seemed. Frick undoubtedly excelled Toby in individual
-work, being surer in tackling and in running with the ball. On the
-other hand, Toby was rather more steady when it came to catching punts
-and could get more out of the team. Perhaps the latter ability was due
-to the fact that he was far better liked than Frick.
-
-The Yardley-Nordham game was uninteresting save as it gave the Blue
-a chance to study comparative scores. Nordham played a listless
-game, partly owing to the absence of three players who had been hurt
-in the Broadwood contest, and, although she twice managed to hold
-Yardley under her goal-posts, she proved an easy victim, the home team
-winning by a score of 19 to 0. Compared to Broadwood’s 7 to 0 victory,
-this looked pretty good until one recalled that Nordham was lacking
-three regulars and was evidently still feeling the effects of last
-week’s contest. Coach Lyle worked in most of his second-string and
-third-string players in the last period. If he hadn’t, there might have
-been another score to Yardley’s credit. The cheering section kept very
-busy that afternoon, trying out several new songs and rehearsing all
-the old ones in preparation for the big game, in spite of the fact that
-a mean, dispiriting drizzle fell all during the last half. Clarke got a
-chance to show what he had for a few minutes in the fourth period and
-gave the impression of having very little. But as he had been at it
-less than a week it was hardly fair to judge him harshly.
-
-So, with only one minor game remaining, Yardley set her face hopefully
-toward the supreme test two weeks hence.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XX
-
-AN ENCOUNTER ON THE BEACH
-
-
-“Doing anything this afternoon, Tucker?”
-
-George Tubb paused with a foot on the stairs to the third floor
-of Whitson and put the question with elaborate carelessness. Toby
-hesitated the fraction of a moment. He knew whither the inquiry led
-and he wanted to answer in the affirmative, but he really wasn’t doing
-anything special, and Arnold could never be counted on for Sunday
-afternoon entertainment, and so he said, after a scarcely noticeable
-pause: “Why, no, I guess not, Tubb.”
-
-“Wondered if you’d care to take a walk somewhere,” continued the other,
-hurriedly. “It’s a corking day and――and everything.”
-
-“All right. About three? I’ve got a letter to finish.”
-
-“Any time.” Tubb’s tone held perfect indifference. Toby felt as if he
-had made the proposal himself and as if Tubb were doing him a favor!
-For an instant he was riled and had something tart on the end of his
-tongue. But he kept it there, and only said: “Three then. So long!”
-
-Tubb’s feet pounded on up the stairs and Toby pushed open the door of
-Number 12. Inside, his slight frown vanished and he chuckled. “Silly
-chump!” he murmured. “Afraid I’d guess how much he wanted me to go with
-him. Gee, I wonder why! I’m never more than fairly decent to him. Must
-be my――my fatal beauty that attracts him!” And Toby’s chuckle grew into
-a laugh as he caught sight of his smiling but unclassic features in the
-mirror over Arnold’s dresser.
-
-The trouble with writing letters after a Sunday dinner is that a Sunday
-dinner is likely to be a rather hearty affair, affecting not only the
-body with torpidity but the brain as well. So it was that while the
-first three pages of Toby’s weekly epistle were brilliant enough the
-last page fell off badly in interest. In fact, he only reached the
-bottom of it by desperate effort and by shortening the lines. Then,
-when he had thumped a stamp on the corner of the envelope and found cap
-and sweater, he clattered down and dropped the letter in the mail-box
-in front of Oxford. After that he backed away to the edge of the
-Prospect, as the grassy terrace in front of the buildings was called,
-fixed his gaze on the window of Number 31 and hailed.
-
-“O Tubb! A-ay, Tubb!”
-
-After several seconds had elapsed, Tubb’s face appeared in the open
-window and he looked down at Toby with simulated surprise. Then, as
-he looked, recollection dawned, and, “Oh! All right, Tucker! Be right
-down!” he called.
-
-Toby kicked at a pebble. “Serve him right if I beat it,” he muttered
-vexedly. “Cheeky beggar! Still, he did it pretty well.” Unwilling
-admiration softened his rancor, and, “I’ll wait,” he added to himself.
-
-Tubb clattered out of the entrance by the time that resolution of
-clemency had been reached and the two crossed the Prospect as if by
-mutual consent and took the graveled path that descended the terrace
-until it reached the winding road at the foot of the hill. Then, “Which
-way?” asked Toby.
-
-“I don’t care,” answered Tubb. “It’s warmer along the beach, I guess.
-The wind’s sort of west to-day.”
-
-“About northwest by north,” said Toby, to whom the direction of the
-wind and the look of the sky were matters of real interest. “It will
-be good and cold to-night, I guess.”
-
-They crossed the road and went on by the path, over the deep cut
-through which the shining rails of the double tracks ran. Westward,
-they could follow the straight roadway to the Wissining station and the
-drawbridge beyond, eastward the railway vanished presently around a
-curve. A rod or two further on the path led into the woods, dividing,
-and they followed the right-hand trail. The oaks and beeches still held
-most of their leaves, but the other trees had stripped their branches
-for the winter, and underfoot the colorful litter rustled pleasantly.
-A moment later the Sound showed through the trees, softly blue in the
-afternoon sunlight. There wasn’t much talk until the two boys had
-reached the beach and turned eastward along the firm, hard sand. The
-tide was well out, and just above the little ripples of waves gleaming
-expanses of wet sand caught the sun blindingly. They by no means had
-the beach to themselves, for the mild afternoon had brought out many
-of the villagers and not a few of the school fellows, and, looking
-ahead down the gently-curving strand, they could see many darker specks
-against its golden surface. Out on the water a few pleasure craft
-were flitting under a light but steady breeze and Plum Island looked
-startlingly near.
-
-“A peach of a day,” said Toby, breathing in the familiar scent of
-sea and shore, and experiencing a tiny qualm of homesickness. Tubb
-assented. He was looking fixedly at two boys who were approaching them
-along the beach. A moment later he grunted.
-
-“There comes Frick,” he said. “Guess I’ll ask him something.”
-
-“No, you won’t,” said Toby decisively. “You promised to behave
-yourself.”
-
-“I didn’t promise,” denied Tubb. “I said maybe I’d――Anyhow, I’m not
-going to _do_ anything; I just want to let him understand――――”
-
-“You keep your mouth closed, Tubb.” Toby took his arm tightly. “No
-nonsense now!”
-
-“We-ell――――” Tubb eyed the approaching couple irresolutely. Frick’s
-companion was a stranger to both, a chap whose name Toby believed to be
-Cotting, a tall, lanky youth with a wide mouth and outstanding ears.
-Just now he appeared to be intensely amused at something Frick was
-saying, and his high-pitched laughter, accompanied by surreptitious
-glances at Toby and George, was too much for the latter. Wresting his
-arm from Toby’s restraining clutch, Tubb swung off to meet the others,
-who were passing a dozen yards up the beach. Toby followed more slowly,
-thinking unflattering things of Tubb.
-
-“Talking about me, were you?” challenged Tubb from a few paces away.
-Cotting shot a startled and questioning glance at Frick. Evidently
-Cotting had no desire for trouble. Frick, however, pushed forward
-swaggeringly.
-
-“What if I was?” he demanded, scowling.
-
-“Don’t do it!” Tubb’s voice had an unsuspected edge, and Frick stared
-an instant in surprise.
-
-“Calm yourself, kid, calm yourself,” he laughed finally. “I talk about
-any one I like to. Then what?”
-
-Toby “butted in” at that moment, nodding coldly to Frick and joining
-arms with Tubb again. “Come on, Tubb, let’s hurry,” he urged.
-
-“That’s right, Tucker,” said Frick approvingly. “He might get hurt if
-he stays around here.”
-
-Cotting had stopped a pace or two away and was digging a hole in the
-sand with the toe of one shoe in a very absorbed way. Toby found time
-to be amused at his tactful withdrawal.
-
-“I’m not going to get hurt,” responded Tubb. “Don’t worry about me,
-Frick. And I’m not going to hurt you――to-day. I just stopped to tell
-you that I’m keeping my affair till later on. Didn’t want you to think
-you were getting away with what you did last week, because you’re not.
-It’s chalked up against you and you’ll get what’s coming to you when
-it’s time. There’s no hurry――――”
-
-“Shut up, Tubb,” begged Toby. “Come on!”
-
-“Mind your own business, Tucker!” snarled Frick. “You’re a nice one
-to talk that stuff! I’ve got something for you, too, you swell-headed
-little carrot! As for you, Tubb, or whatever your silly name is, I’m
-ready whenever you are! Right now if you like! I’ll take on the two of
-you! Come on! What do you say?”
-
-“There’s going to be no scrapping here,” said Toby resolutely. “There’s
-going to be none anywhere for awhile. You keep what you’ve got for me,
-Frick. I’ll ask for it when I’m ready. Tubb, you――――”
-
-“You’ll get it when _I’m_, ready!” growled Frick. “I’d give it to
-you now if――――” He glanced over the beach and, furtively, toward the
-school, whose upper windows were visible above the stretch of woods.
-
-“Yes, and get thrown out of school,” assented Toby grimly. “Not for
-me, thanks! There’s time enough. Come on, Tubb.”
-
-“All right,” Tubb smiled cheerfully. “No use getting in trouble about
-this guy. See you again, Frick. Be good to yourself!”
-
-“Yes, run along, little boys,” answered Frick, laughing angrily. “For a
-plugged nickel I’d bang your fool heads together!”
-
-Toby tightened his hold on Tubb’s arm, but Tubb only laughed and went
-on. “Gee, that did me a lot of good,” he said contentedly. “He’s a big
-bluff, I guess, Tucker.”
-
-“Maybe. Still, they say he’s pretty handy with his fists. Anyhow, I’m
-glad you’re out of that, Tubb. We’d all been finished for fair if you
-two had scrapped here on Sunday afternoon!”
-
-“I forgot about its being Sunday,” said Tubb. “I suppose that would
-have made it worse. Say, he’s got it in for you, too, hasn’t he?”
-
-“Yes, I guess so,” answered Toby tranquilly. “But I should feel faint!
-Anyhow, he will have to keep the peace until football’s over. I don’t
-intend to lose my place on the Second for the likes of him!”
-
-“Say, why doesn’t that ninny take you over to the First?” asked Tubb.
-
-“Meaning Mr. Lyle? You have pretty names for your Big Boss! Well, I’ve
-been thinking about that, Tubb, and I’ve just about concluded that it’s
-because he doesn’t want me!”
-
-“But, joking aside,” protested the other earnestly, “you play a better
-game than that guy Clarke, and I’ll bet you could beat Noyes, too, if
-you had a chance. Noyes is scared all the time. He gets his signals all
-balled up. No one feels any――whatyoucallit――any――any――――”
-
-“You mean that he doesn’t inspire his team with confidence in his
-ability to――er――meet successfully the――――”
-
-“Say, what’s wrong with you?” demanded Tubb anxiously.
-
-Toby chuckled. “That’s what comes of trying to make practical
-application of what I’ve learned in my English course. Just as soon as
-I try to speak the language correctly some one jumps on me! It’s no
-use!”
-
-“I should say not!” agreed Tubb, relievedly. “You talk like an
-examination paper!”
-
-“Then I’ll stop. Those are things I don’t want to think of. By the way,
-how are you getting along in your classes, Tubb?”
-
-“Fine. I never had much trouble with studies. Guess I learn easily.”
-
-“I think you must,” responded Toby thoughtfully. “Wish I did. Shall we
-turn back?”
-
-“Do you mean that you have trouble with your studies, Tucker?” asked
-Tubb when they were retracing their steps. “I thought you were a
-regular shark for work.”
-
-“A shark,” answered Toby, “is a much misunderstood fish. Most folks
-think that a shark swallows things whole, but he doesn’t. He has to
-bite off a chunk at a time, just as I do. Where we differ, Mister Shark
-and I, is on chewing. He doesn’t have to chew what he bites off, and
-I do. I have to chew it a long while. And even then it isn’t always
-digested. I guess, Tubb, the truth of the matter is that I can learn
-easily enough if I set out to do it, but I have a rotten fashion of
-trying to do two hours’ study in one!”
-
-Tubb laughed. “I know. If the instructor’s easy you can get by that way
-sometimes, but here at Yardley you can’t. I found that out the first
-week. Well, I suppose we’ve got to learn the dreary stuff, eh? What’s
-the good of it, though? A lot of it, I mean?”
-
-“Don’t know, Tubb. I’ve wondered. Seems to me sometimes that if
-they’d teach us less Greek and Latin and higher mathematics and more
-things like horseshoeing and plumbing and――and ditch-digging we’d have
-a better chance when we got through. A lot of us will never get to
-college. I hope to, but I don’t know. If I don’t, what use to me is
-Latin and trigonometry and Greek? I suppose I’ll build boats most of my
-life――maybe. Being able to read the Odyssey in the original odiousness
-isn’t going to help me a whole lot!”
-
-“Well, there are schools where a fellow can go and learn those things,”
-said Tubb. “Blacksmithing and electricity and――and practical things,
-you know.”
-
-“Yes, but why not teach a little of them at every school? Seems to me
-a lot of us would be a sight better off if we knew something about a
-practical trade when we got out of prep school. Of course, we couldn’t
-learn much, but we might have a start. I guess it’ll come to that some
-day, Tubb.”
-
-“Really? Well, I wouldn’t mind. I don’t know what I’m going to do when
-I get through here. Go home and tend store, I guess.”
-
-“Store? What kind of a store is it?”
-
-“Oh, just a regular general store like you find in small towns. Dad
-sells everything from sugar to plows. And he makes just enough to
-live on, I guess. He used to be in the lumber business, and he did
-pretty well for awhile. Then――something happened and it went bust. No,
-by jiminy, I won’t do it, Tucker! Running a country store isn’t good
-enough! I’ll be a――a lawyer or something first!”
-
-“Sounds desperate the way you say it,” laughed Toby. “I’d sort of like
-to be a doctor myself, only you can’t be President if you’re a doctor,
-and of course I’d rather be President.”
-
-“Can’t you?” asked Tubb innocently. “Why not?”
-
-“Don’t know.” Toby shook his head. “You never heard of a President
-who’d been a doctor first, did you? Maybe there’s something in the
-Constitution prohibiting it.”
-
-“You say the craziest things!” laughed Tubb. Then, soberly: “Do you
-mean that you really think about things like that, Tucker?” he asked.
-
-“Things like what? Being a doctor?”
-
-“No, being President. I never do.”
-
-“Sure, why not? Some one’s got to be President, Tubb. Might as well be
-me if I’m fitted for it. Or you, if you are! Every President was a kid
-once, you know. I wonder if they ever thought about it when they were
-kids. Maybe you’re not supposed to. Anyway, if you’re a lawyer and I’m
-a doctor, you’ll get the presidency, because lawyers seem to have it
-all over every other profession when it comes to copping that job!”
-
-Later, climbing the hill again, Toby asked: “Changed your mind any
-about this place, Tubb?”
-
-“How do you mean?” But, in spite of assumed ignorance, he understood,
-and in the next breath he went on. “Yes, I have, Tucker,” he said
-frankly. “I said a lot of things I didn’t believe, anyhow. I had an
-awful grouch at first. Guess you――guess you must have thought I was a
-perfect blamed nuisance!”
-
-“N-no, not exactly. You got me riled pretty often, though.”
-
-“Did I? I suppose I must have. Well――――” Tubb hesitated. “Say, I want
-you to know that I appreciate everything, Tucker; everything you did
-to make me――make me get onto myself. Of course I know that I’m not the
-sort of fellow that other fellows take to, but――but I’ve been――sort
-of――getting along lately. Football’s done it, I guess, and you started
-me on that. That’s why I say that I’d like you to know――――”
-
-“All right.” Toby chuckled. “Tubb, I decided a long while ago that when
-you got straightened out here I was going to do something to prove to
-my own satisfaction that――well, that you were a regular fellow.”
-
-“What was it?” asked the other, puzzled.
-
-“I was going to call you something,” answered Toby gravely. “I guess
-you have got straightened out pretty well and so I guess I’ll do it
-right now.” They had reached the second floor of Whitson and Toby had
-started toward Number 12. “See you later, Wash-Tub!”
-
-Then his door closed behind him hurriedly. But George Tubb, continuing
-his way upstairs after a moment, looked anything but vengeful!
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXI
-
-TUBB BARKS A KNUCKLE
-
-
-Yardley entered the final stage of football that week with its
-customary enthusiasm and single-mindedness. There had been already two
-or three meetings in Assembly Hall, on the third floor of Oxford, for
-the purpose of practicing cheers and songs, but those gatherings paled
-into insignificance with Monday night’s affair and kept on paling as
-the last fortnight before the Broadwood game grew toward its end. There
-were mass meetings on Monday, Wednesday and Friday of that next to the
-last week, and at each successive meeting the cheering was heartier,
-the singing louder and the enthusiasm more intense. Every one who had
-anything to say――and some who hadn’t――addressed the students, the
-Musical Clubs played their best and if fervor counted in the final
-score, Broadwood, to quote Sid Creel, was “a gone coon!”
-
-And on the two gridirons life was very strenuous indeed those six days.
-The First was looking toward the big game and nothing else, and the
-game with St. John’s Academy, which, contrary to custom, was to be
-played away from home, was viewed merely as an incident. New plays,
-not many in number but exacting of execution, which had purposely been
-held back until now, were being learned and the final touches were
-being laid on. Coach Lyle had two graduates to aid him during the last
-fortnight, and he needed them, for there were still weak spots in the
-Blue’s line-up.
-
-The Second Team, too, went through a week of intensive work, both with
-a view to giving the First some good hard tussles and with her own
-second and last game in sight. She was to play Latimer High School on
-the First Team gridiron on Saturday, and, with the big team away, the
-contest was sure to draw a crowd and attain a semblance of importance,
-and the Second, not at all loath to enjoy the limelight for once, was
-resolved to make a good showing. Toby discovered suddenly on Tuesday
-that his triumph over Roy Frick had apparently been gained, for during
-three desperate and hard-fought periods against the First he remained
-at quarter while his rival graced the bench. And Toby did himself
-justice that afternoon if ever he had. To be sure the First Team
-smashed out a score in each period, but she had to work for each, and
-in the third twelve minutes the Second made a forty-six-yard advance
-from mid-field to the First’s five-yard line, where, foiled thrice in
-attempts at rushing, Toby tossed a short forward to Mawson, who fell
-across the goal-line for a glorious six points. Listening to the storm
-of reproach and accusation hurled at the First by their coaches, Toby
-almost regretted the triumph!
-
-Toby was used hard in that game. It seemed that nothing could stop the
-opposing ends from getting down under punts, while anything in the
-shape of protection for the catcher was invariably lacking. That wild
-Tubb was the worst offender from Toby’s point of view. Tubb was forever
-rushing on him the instant the ball settled into his arms, and Tubb
-had learned to tackle now. Some of the hardest thumps Toby got that
-afternoon were due to Tubb. Then toward the last of the play, Toby got
-into a side-line mix-up and Jim Rose, who weighed close to two hundred,
-sat on his neck in a way that spelled discomfort then and afterwards.
-On the whole, although he had had a corking good time and was conscious
-of having deported himself rather well, Toby reached the gymnasium in
-a somewhat weak and battered condition and made no objection when Gyp
-removed him to the rubbing room and made him swallow something that
-tasted like ammonia and then did excruciating things to his neck for
-a good ten minutes. Even after that he didn’t feel awfully bright and
-chipper, and that night he fell asleep with his head pillowed on his
-French dictionary and slept beautifully until Arnold rudely awakened
-him and sternly sentenced him to bed.
-
-The next afternoon, although he really felt as fit as ever, the
-assistant trainer cast one stern and penetrating look at him and
-ordered him off the field. “No work for you to-day, Tucker,” said Gyp.
-“And don’t stick around here, either. Go and play tennis or something
-easy. (Gyp was known to hold a supreme contempt for tennis!) Anyway,
-stay outdoors.”
-
-“Can’t I watch practice?” asked Toby ingratiatingly.
-
-“You cannot! Beat it now, like I tell you!”
-
-So Toby “beat it” and went back to the gymnasium and donned “cits” and
-wandered down to the tennis courts and saw Horace Ramsey run away with
-a set from the formidable Colcord, one of the mainstays of the Tennis
-Team. Ramsey’s playing astonished Toby, and he said as much to that
-youth when, later, they walked back up the slope together.
-
-“I’ve improved my playing a lot the last two weeks,” said Ramsey.
-“Some fellows don’t like cool weather for tennis, but I do. Maybe it’s
-because I’m heavier and hot weather gets me. I think I’ve got the knack
-of the back-hand stroke now. It worried me a lot at first. That’s the
-first time I ever got Colcord six-three, though. He wasn’t at his best
-to-day, I guess.”
-
-“Heart troubling you much nowadays?” asked Toby slyly.
-
-“Not a bit,” answered the other unsuspiciously. “I guess Mr. Bendix was
-right about it. He said, you know, that he couldn’t find anything wrong
-with it. Sometimes I think mother was too――too anxious and imagined a
-lot. You know how mothers are, Tucker.”
-
-“Yes.” Toby nodded. “My mother used to be that way, too. She used to
-tell my father that I wasn’t strong enough to split wood, but dad never
-believed her. And somehow I split it and lived to tell the tale! How
-are you and Tubb getting along, Ramsey?”
-
-“Getting along? Oh, fine. Why?”
-
-“We-ell, just at first I thought I noticed a certain――er――coolness
-between you.”
-
-“Really?” Ramsey looked mildly surprised. “I don’t remember that. I
-like George first rate. He used to be sort of touchy and――and gloomy,
-but he isn’t now. Maybe he was homesick. He’s doing great things on the
-football team, I hear.”
-
-“Yes.” Toby unconsciously felt of a lame hip. “Yes, he certainly is!”
-
-When Arnold came dragging himself in just before five he found his
-roommate putting in some much-needed licks on his Latin. “Your friend
-Tubbs――――” began Arnold presently.
-
-“Tubb, Arn, still Tubb,” corrected Toby patiently. “Minus the sibilant
-consonant.”
-
-“Tubb, then. It’s a crazy name, anyway. What I was going to say
-was that your friend Tubb played a very nice game of football this
-afternoon.”
-
-“So glad to hear it.”
-
-“Yes.” Arnold chuckled. “And some one almost spoiled his fatal beauty.
-They say it was Roy Frick.”
-
-“How? What did he do to him?” asked Toby anxiously.
-
-“How I don’t know. I didn’t observe it. What was done was enough,
-though. Friend Tubb’s nose is all over his face. I suppose that in
-time, after Andy has worked it back into shape and hitched it there
-with plenty of plaster, it will resume its normal appearance, but at
-the present writing it’s――well, it’s a sight and a strong argument
-against the brutality of football!”
-
-“Do you mean that Frick got him during play?”
-
-“Well, it doesn’t look like play, but maybe it was!”
-
-“You know what I mean, you seven-ply idiot! Did they have a scrap, or
-what?”
-
-“Oh, it was during the course of the gentlemanly encounter between
-friends that we staged down there this afternoon. Honest, Toby,
-it’s a wonder any one escaped without losing an ear or a jawbone or
-something, the way those coaches drove us to-day! They were positively
-blood-thirsty! That long-legged guy who’s coaching the guards and
-tackles――――”
-
-“Did Tubb try to get back at him?”
-
-“At Frick? No, not that I know of. Maybe he has by now. Maybe,
-though, it wasn’t Frick who plugged him. I only heard some one say so
-afterwards; Casement I think.”
-
-“It was Frick, I’ll wager,” said Toby. “Hang him, I wish he’d behave
-himself until the season’s over. Tubb’s crazy to fight him, and I’m
-afraid he will, and if he does some one will get on to it and he will
-get the dickens.”
-
-“That’s no joke,” agreed Arnold. “You’d better give him a tip to keep
-quiet until after we’ve licked Broadwood. It wouldn’t do to lose as
-good a chap as Tubb. I heard, by the way, that Frick and a couple of
-other fellows had a mix-up with some of the mill toughs the other
-night; Saturday I think it was; and that Frick, for once, got the short
-end of it. Too bad they didn’t cure him!”
-
-“Guess I’ll run up and see him after supper,” said Toby thoughtfully.
-
-“Frick?” asked Arnold innocently.
-
-“If I did I’d give him a good lesson,” answered Toby grimly. “No, Tubb.
-I made him sort of promise to be good, but if Frick’s gone and pasted
-him again――――” Toby shook his head lugubriously.
-
-Arnold laughed. “Think his patience may wear thin after awhile, eh?
-Well, I can’t say I’d blame him if it did. Still, he mustn’t be allowed
-to get in wrong with faculty just yet. Go on up and read the riot-act
-to him, old thing. By the bye, what happened to you this afternoon?
-What kep ye?”
-
-“Gyp,” said Toby. “He wouldn’t let me on. Said I was to play tennis
-instead!”
-
-“I thought that might be it. Well, I missed your smiling countenance
-and cheerful voice. So did your team, I guess. They didn’t begin to
-play the way they did yesterday. Did you play tennis?”
-
-“Not likely! To tell the gospel truth, Arn, I guess I wouldn’t have
-been much good to-day. I felt all right until Gyp told me I didn’t,
-though. That’s funny, isn’t it?”
-
-“Not at all, not at all. Power of suggestion, T. Tucker. Recognized
-psychological phenomenon. When do we eat?”
-
-Toby was surprised as well as embarrassed on reaching training table
-that evening by the interest displayed in his welfare by his teammates.
-It seemed that every one, with the possible exception of Roy Frick,
-was eager and anxious to have his absence from practice satisfactorily
-explained. Toby was somehow glad that Coach Burtis had not yet reached
-the table, for the coach had a kindly but amused smile that made Toby
-feel silly, and Toby was feeling silly enough as it was. Just at first
-he thought the fellows were having fun with him, but their relief at
-discovering that it was merely a lay-off that had kept him away was too
-genuine to be mistaken.
-
-“Well, Gyp has good sense,” commented Farquhar approvingly. “The First
-certainly laid for you yesterday, Tucker, and I could see that you were
-pretty well flattened out afterwards. Feeling all right now?”
-
-“Fine, thanks. Somebody pass the milk, please.”
-
-“Atta boy, Tucker!” said Nelson from across the board. “Don’t forget
-Saturday. We’re going to need you, son!”
-
-Toby saw Lovett glance toward Frick and exchange an amused glance
-with Grover Beech, and wished Nelson had more tact, and nearly choked
-drinking the milk with which Mawson had filled his glass. Then Mr.
-Burtis came and asked Toby if his lay-off had straightened him out,
-and again he said he was feeling fine, thanks, and after that some one
-mercifully turned the conversation.
-
-When supper was over he went in search of George Tubb. He had seen
-Tubb leave the First Team table and took it for granted that he had
-gone up to his room. But a knock on the portal of Number 31 elicited
-no response and, on pushing the door open, the room proved to be dark
-and empty. So he went down to Number 12, lighted up, got his books
-together and started on some geometry problems that promised to give
-him trouble. But the first one proved less awful than he anticipated
-and so he went on to the second, and when he remembered George Tubb
-again it was nearly nine. Arnold had not yet returned from a conference
-at the gymnasium. Toby pushed his papers away, viewing the result of
-his labors approvingly, and went back to the third floor. This time a
-light showed from Number 31 and he found the room tenanted, but only by
-Horace Ramsey.
-
-“Where’s Tubb?” asked Toby.
-
-“Haven’t seen him since before supper,” replied Horace, with a sigh
-as he leaned back from his studying and stretched his arms overhead.
-“I don’t think he’s been back here since he went down. I only came in
-about half an hour ago, though. Want to see him? He may be over in
-Dudley. He and a fellow named Dunphy are sort of thick. I don’t know
-the number.”
-
-“I’ll wait a few minutes if I’m not keeping you from studying. Maybe he
-will be in.”
-
-“Glad to have you,” replied Horace eagerly. “Try the big chair. It’s
-all right if you don’t lean back too hard. Did you hear about the
-wallop Tubb got this afternoon?”
-
-“Yes, Deering told me about it. Does he think Frick did it?”
-
-“He says he knows he did! You ought to have heard him go on about it!”
-Horace chuckled. “Gee, he was mad!”
-
-“You don’t suppose he’s――he’s looking for Frick now, do you?”
-
-“By Jove! I wonder if he is! No, I don’t think so, though. He had sort
-of cooled down by supper time. He looked like a South Sea pirate,
-Tucker. They plastered his face all over and it hurt him to talk, I
-guess. Not that that kept him quiet, though!”
-
-“Well, I wish I knew for sure――――” muttered Toby. “If he gets to
-scrapping with Frick and faculty learns of it――――”
-
-“I don’t believe he will, honest. He said something about that,
-something about wishing football was over so he could show Frick a good
-time.”
-
-Toby remained a half-hour longer, during which conversation touched on
-many subjects, and then, as he was leaving, Tubb appeared. He seemed in
-unusually good spirits and greeted the visitor almost boisterously, and
-wouldn’t hear of Toby’s departing yet. “I’ve been over to Dudley seeing
-a fellow named Dunphy,” he explained. “Know him?”
-
-“A little,” said Toby. “What happened to your hand?”
-
-“Oh, that?” Tubb held up his left hand and looked at a bleeding
-knuckle. “Why, I barked it against the corner of Dudley. It was sort
-of dark and I tried to turn too soon. Struck it against the stone, I
-guess. It’s just a scratch.”
-
-“You keep on,” observed Ramsey dryly, “and your folks won’t know you!
-Isn’t he a picture, Tucker?”
-
-Toby assented unsmilingly. Tubb did look fairly disreputable, for white
-surgeon’s tape crossed and recrossed his nose over a pad of gauze and
-gave him a peculiarly villainous appearance.
-
-“Suppose you heard about this?” asked Tubb significantly, touching the
-wounded member gingerly. Toby nodded. “That’s our friend Frick again.
-It’s all right, though. Just one more little favor to return.”
-
-“Seen him since?” asked Toby carelessly.
-
-“Only at a respectable and safe distance,” replied Tubb, smiling. He
-looked and sounded truthful, but Toby gave another look at the bleeding
-knuckle and doubted.
-
-“Well,” he said after a moment, “I hope you’ll keep away from him,
-Tubb. You know we sort of decided you would.”
-
-“Yes, I know. That’s all right. Friend Frick can wait. I’m in no
-hurry. I was afraid that I might forget about him by the time there was
-any comeback, but now, after this little memento, there’s no danger of
-it!”
-
-Presently Toby left, wondering whether Tubb was telling the truth
-or was ashamed to confess that he had taken revenge on his enemy.
-Certainly, it was quite possible to skin one’s knuckle by hitting it
-against the rough stone trimming of one of the buildings, but somehow
-Toby didn’t quite believe that Tubb had acquired his injury that way!
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXII
-
-A VISIT TO THE OFFICE
-
-
-Toby’s suspicions were confirmed the next morning. On the way back from
-chapel he fell in with Sid Creel. Sid’s eyes were twinkling merrily as
-he joined arms with Toby and fell into step. “Did you hear about Roy
-Frick?” he demanded in a hushed but joyous voice.
-
-Toby shook his head. He thought he knew what was coming, however.
-
-“Some one beat him up,” said Sid, “beat him up beautifully! I haven’t
-seen him, but that’s what Orlie Simpson says. He’s in his room and
-won’t come out, and Orlie says he’s a sight!”
-
-“When?”
-
-“Last night. That’s all I know. Maybe it’s unkind to chortle, Tucker,
-but he _did_ need it, didn’t he?”
-
-“Maybe he did,” answered Toby gloomily.
-
-“Well, what’s your trouble?” Sid observed him in surprise. “You sound
-as if you were sorry for him!”
-
-“Frick? No, I was only thinking that if there was any trouble about
-it――whoever did it――――”
-
-“Oh, he’s not likely to tell, I guess,” Sid chuckled. “Probably he will
-say he fell downstairs or something! Well, see you later. Thought you’d
-be interested in hearing the sad news. So long!”
-
-After a two o’clock recitation Toby returned to Number 12 to leave his
-books before going to the field and found a gray card awaiting him.
-Toby had seen gray cards before and knew what they meant, but this time
-his conscience was fairly untroubled and he wondered a good deal as he
-read the printed form:
-
-“The Principal desires to see Tobias Tucker in the School Office before
-6 p.m.”
-
-Even the clearest conscience will experience qualms on receipt of such
-a document, and Toby sat down, card in hand, and asked himself what it
-portended. It might be that bothersome Latin, although just of late it
-hadn’t been going half badly and his instructor had even given him an
-approving word but a day or two since. Of course it was conceivable
-that a student might be summoned to the Office on some matter not
-concerned with misdemeanors or derelictions. For instance, Toby told
-himself, Doctor Collins might want to ask his advice regarding the
-administration of Yardley Hall School!
-
-Well, anyhow, he reflected presently, he had until six to keep the
-appointment, and meanwhile it was getting close to practice time, and
-whatever the matter might be it could wait. So he kicked off his shoes
-in favor of a pair of rubber-soled “sneakers” and donned his oldest
-jacket and set forth.
-
-If troubles never come singly, as they say, the same may be said of
-surprises. Toby’s second surprise that day came when the whistle had
-put an end to a hard-fought battle with First Team in which he had
-again kept the quarter-back position throughout. Possibly the fact
-that Frick was not on hand may have had something to do with that, for
-Rawson and Stair had been left well behind in the race for supremacy.
-In any case, Toby put in forty minutes of actual playing and ran his
-team well, although no score came to the Second to-day. Walking back
-to the bench for his sweater, he heard his name called. Coaches Lyle
-and Burtis were standing together nearby and it was Mr. Burtis who had
-spoken. Toby joined them.
-
-“You know Mr. Lyle, Tucker?” asked the Second Team coach. Wonderingly
-Toby shook hands. “Mr. Lyle thinks he needs you on the First,”
-continued Mr. Burtis. “Sorry to lose you, Tucker, but we’re almost
-through, and I guess you may be able to help out over there.”
-
-Toby looked bewildered. “You mean you want me――that I’m to go to the
-First Team, sir?”
-
-“Yes, Tucker, that’s the idea,” answered the First Team coach. “As you
-know, we’ve lost Curran for the season. We still have a couple of good
-quarters in Noyes and Winfield, but I’ll feel safer with another to
-fall back on. I can’t promise you much glory, Tucker, for you may not
-be needed this season. Perhaps all you’ll get is a lot of hard work, my
-boy, but you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that you’re doing your
-bit for the School. Anyhow, there’s next year to look forward to. And
-I dare say that, if you take hold the way I expect you to, you’ll get
-your letter in the Broadwood game. Well, you report to me to-morrow,
-will you?”
-
-“Yes, sir, thanks!”
-
-“Good!” Mr. Lyle shook hands again as though to seal the bargain, and
-then Mr. Burtis shook hands in a way that conveyed the idea that he
-was very pleased for Toby’s sake, and Toby escaped. Most of the First
-and Second Team fellows had gone on ahead and he had the path pretty
-much to himself on the way to the gymnasium. And he was glad, because
-he wanted to think. He was a First Team man! That was wonderful, but
-it was also disquieting. Suppose that by some strange and unforeseen
-combination of events he was called on to play against St. John’s, or
-even Broadwood! Gee, that would be pretty fierce! He guessed he just
-couldn’t do it! No, sir, he’d be ill or something. Playing on the
-Second was one thing and running up against a big team like St. John’s
-was quite another. He would make a horrible mess of things, probably,
-and die of disgrace! Then the comforting thought came to him that
-there wasn’t the least chance of his getting into action in either of
-the remaining contests, that all he would be required to do would be
-to substitute now and then in practice. It would be pretty hard work,
-of course, but it would be worth while. Even to be numbered among the
-First Team was a proud privilege and cheap at any cost of labor. And
-there was also the alluring possibility that he would get in for a
-minute or two at the last of the big game, long enough to win the right
-to wear the big blue Y!
-
-He remembered Frick then and wondered if he would have been chosen
-had Frick been out to-day. His modesty didn’t prevent his suspecting
-that his work had pleased the coach better than Frick’s during the last
-week or so, and he hoped that Frick’s absence from practice to-day was
-not the reason for the choice falling where it had. But he couldn’t be
-certain as to that, and in consequence he found no temptation to be
-“swell-headed.”
-
-It wasn’t until he had dressed and was leaving the gymnasium with
-Sid Creel and Frank Lamson and one or two more that he remembered
-that summons to the Office. Remembering, his heart sank. Suppose
-something――he couldn’t think what it might be――but suppose something
-had gone wrong and he was to learn that this new and wonderful good
-fortune was to be denied him! Of course, that was perfect rot, for
-he hadn’t done anything! Just the same he’d feel better when that
-conference with the Principal was over.
-
-The School Secretary waved him silently toward the inner office a few
-minutes later and Toby confronted Doctor Collins. There was nothing
-formidable about the Principal, but to-day Toby’s spine experienced the
-sensation of becoming suddenly liquefied, for Doctor Collins fixed a
-kind but stern look on him as he swung about in his chair.
-
-“Ah, Tucker! Be seated, please.” The Doctor removed his glasses, held
-them between him and the light from the broad windows, seemed satisfied
-with their clarity and replaced them astride his nose. “One of our
-fellows was set on last night by two other boys, Tucker, and badly
-hurt. Perhaps you know him?”
-
-“Roy Frick, sir? I know him a little. We’re――we were on the Second Team
-together.”
-
-“And you had heard of his――ah――injuries?”
-
-“Yes, sir, Sid Creel told me this morning.”
-
-“I see. Well, I’ve sent for you, Tucker, because Frick tells a strange
-story of the event. At least, I find it strange. Perhaps you can throw
-some light on it. According to Frick, he was returning from the village
-last evening at about nine o’clock, perhaps a little after nine, and
-just inside the main gate at the foot of the Prospect two boys jumped
-out from the trees and seized him. That is to say, one boy seized him
-and the other――ah――administered punishment. It appears to have been
-rather a brutal affair, brutal and cowardly. You agree with me?”
-
-“Yes, sir,” answered Toby troubledly. He had made up his mind by now
-that no matter what happened he would not tell on Tubb.
-
-“Yes. Now here is the strange――ah――feature of the story. Frick tells
-us that the boy who punched and otherwise maltreated him was you,
-Tucker.”
-
-There was a moment of silence. Then: “_Me?_” gasped Toby.
-
-The Principal nodded. “Yes, he says so. He declares that he saw you
-well enough to recognize you, although the spot is a fairly dark one.
-However, there is the possibility that he was mistaken. Doubtless you
-can account for your time at that hour, Tucker.”
-
-“Why, yes, sir! Of course I can! I wasn’t anywhere near the gate! I
-wasn’t even outside Whitson! Besides, I’d have no reason to do it,
-Doctor!”
-
-“No? I gathered from Frick that there was a sort of feud existing
-between you. However, that isn’t of consequence now. I’m very glad
-indeed that you are in a position to disprove his accusation. Where
-were you at that time, Tucker, and with whom?”
-
-“Between nine and――――”
-
-“Well, between nine and half-past, let us say. Frick thinks the time
-was perhaps nine-ten or nine-fifteen.”
-
-“I was in my room in Whitson, sir. I was doing some geometry.”
-
-“Well occupied,” answered the Principal with a smile. “And your
-roommate was with you, I presume?”
-
-“Why, no, sir, he wasn’t,” stammered Toby. “Arnold was at a football
-conference.”
-
-“Oh!” Doctor Collins sounded disappointed. “Then between nine and, say,
-a quarter-past nine you were quite alone? Did any one come into your
-room about that time?”
-
-“No, sir.” Toby’s heart sank. “I think it was a little after eight when
-I came down from the third floor, and I studied until――I’m not just
-certain, but I think it was about a quarter-past, sir.”
-
-“Where were you on the third floor?”
-
-“I went up to see George Tubb. He rooms in 31.”
-
-“But that was, you say, shortly after eight. At what time did your
-roommate return?”
-
-Toby hesitated. Arnold had been in the room when he got back from that
-second visit to Number 31, but how long he had been there Toby hadn’t
-asked. Finally: “He was there a little before ten, sir.”
-
-“Well, between the time you finished studying and his return where were
-you, Tucker?”
-
-Toby was prepared for that question. If he owned to having gone back to
-Tubb’s room the Principal would probably suggest that Tubb be called
-on to verify the statement, in which case it was more than likely
-that Tubb’s absence from his room at the time when Frick was set upon
-would become known. Perhaps, since Tubb was evidently not thought of
-in connection with the affair, that was not dangerous, but to Toby it
-seemed to offer a clew that any one would seize on. Toby’s reply came
-without hesitation.
-
-“I never left Whitson all the evening, sir, not for a moment,” he
-said earnestly. “I was in the building from the time I came back from
-practice until I went to chapel this morning.”
-
-“I see. Well, I wish you had some one who could vouch for that, Tucker.
-I think you are truthful, my boy, and that Frick made a mistake, but
-I have no right to accept your word above his. We’ll let the matter
-rest overnight. Perhaps you will think of some one who can testify
-as to your whereabouts between nine and nine-thirty. Can you come
-to me again at――――” the Doctor referred to a memorandum pad on the
-desk――“eleven-thirty to-morrow?”
-
-“Yes, sir.”
-
-“Very well, do so. I’ve no doubt we can find a solution of the mystery
-between us. Good afternoon, Tucker.”
-
-Toby returned to Number 12 uneasy but not seriously troubled. It was
-nonsense to suppose that Frick would persist in his silly story in the
-face of his, Toby’s, denial, or that, even if he did, the Doctor would
-hold the accused guilty on such slim evidence. Just the same, he felt
-none too kindly toward George Tubb. Suppose the Principal did believe
-Frick finally and――Toby frowned. “Gee, I’d get bounced maybe!” he
-muttered. “Anyhow, they wouldn’t let me play. Oh, well, Tubb will just
-have to ’fess up in that case and take his medicine!”
-
-The thought that Tubb might refuse to do anything of the sort occurred
-to him, but Toby put it resolutely aside. Tubb wasn’t that sort, he
-assured himself. Whatever faults Tubb might have, at least he was
-square.
-
-Toby said nothing to Arnold or any one else that evening of what was
-on his mind most of the time. He considered going up and telling Tubb
-how matters stood, but he couldn’t see that anything was to be gained
-by that and so he didn’t. At half-past eleven the next forenoon he went
-back to the Office. Roy Frick, still bearing unmistakable signs of his
-beating, was there before him. Doctor Collins got to business at once.
-
-“Tucker, Frick says that he recognized you perfectly the night before
-last. That is so, Frick?”
-
-Frick nodded, glancing at Toby from discolored and still swollen eyes.
-“Yes, sir. I saw him plainly twice. I couldn’t see the other fellow
-very well, because he got me from behind. I just know that he was tall
-and kind of slim. But I saw him all right.” Frick nodded toward Toby.
-
-“What do you say, Tucker?”
-
-“Why, I can’t say anything, sir,” answered Toby helplessly, “except
-that he’s wrong. I wasn’t outside Whitson once that evening.”
-
-The Doctor looked thoughtfully from one to the other. At last: “You
-say, Frick, that there has been some sort of quarrel between you and
-Tucker?”
-
-“Yes, sir, sort of. He――he knocked me down one day when I hadn’t done
-anything――――”
-
-“Nothing but bounce a football off my be――off my head! And I didn’t
-knock you down, and you know it. You tried to hit me and I gave you the
-shoulder and you upset. Besides, I didn’t think any more about that.”
-
-“Is there any one else who holds a grudge against you, Frick?” asked
-the Principal.
-
-“No, sir, not that I know of.” Then, catching Toby’s look and mistaking
-its warning for an accusation, he qualified the statement. “Maybe Tubb
-has it in for me a bit, but I know it wasn’t he.”
-
-“Tubb?” asked the Doctor. “Who is Tubb?”
-
-“George Tubb, sir. He’s on the First Team. We had――he thought I did
-something to him intentionally when we were playing one day.”
-
-“And you didn’t?”
-
-“Not intentionally, sir.”
-
-“And you’re certain the fellow who pummeled you was not Tubb?”
-
-“Yes, sir. Tubb is thin, and this fellow was thickish and had red――had
-hair like Tucker’s.”
-
-“I see. Have you found any one, Tucker, who can confirm what you
-told me yesterday as to your presence in your room between nine and
-half-past?”
-
-“No, sir, there isn’t any one.” Frick allowed himself the luxury of a
-grin while the Principal was not looking, but it didn’t last long. It
-still hurt him to move his mouth.
-
-“Well, I don’t know,” said the Principal finally in tones almost as
-helpless as Toby’s. “It sounds to me as if there might be what you
-fellows would call a ‘catch’ in this business, but on the evidence I
-don’t see but what I’ll have to hold you responsible, Tucker. If you
-know anything bearing on the matter that you haven’t told me I think it
-would be well to mention it, because, to be frank with you, I consider
-this attack on Frick a particularly brutal and underhand affair
-meriting severe punishment.”
-
-Toby blinked but was silent. After a moment the Principal turned toward
-Frick again. “From what you have told me I think it would be well for
-you to be a little more careful in the future of your behavior toward
-your fellows. I’m afraid you have a faculty for making trouble, my boy.
-Should anything more of this sort reach my ears I shall be strongly
-inclined to hold you partly to blame. That’s all for now. Good morning.”
-
-Frick withdrew and the Doctor removed his glasses and polished them
-deliberately and thoughtfully. At last, replacing them, he asked
-gently: “Do you know who attacked Frick, Tucker?”
-
-Toby hesitated. After all, he didn’t know, for Frick’s description
-surely exonerated Tubb. So he shook his head and answered, “No, sir.”
-
-“But you suspect some one?” the Principal insisted.
-
-“I――I’d rather not answer, sir.”
-
-“Even if I tell you that a severe punishment awaits the――ah――convicted
-person?”
-
-Toby shook his head again. Doctor Collins sighed.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIII
-
-TUBB ON THE TRAIL
-
-
-It didn’t take long for the news to get around the school. By evening
-it was known everywhere that Toby Tucker was on probation for waylaying
-Roy Frick and beating him up. A good many fellows took the stand that
-Toby deserved a gold medal instead of probation, even while deploring
-the fact that he had employed questionable means to wreak vengeance.
-Having some one hold Frick while he punched him was not quite
-sportsmanlike. Of course Toby was lost to football for the rest of the
-season, although, as he was, at most, but a third-choice quarter, the
-loss was not considered serious. If Coach Lyle thought otherwise no one
-knew it.
-
-Arnold was rabid when he heard the news from Toby and was all for
-a swift descent on the Office and an indignant protest backed by
-affidavits of good character. Toby, however, persuaded him to
-relinquish the project.
-
-“Well, then why don’t you go and finish the job on Frick?” demanded
-Arnold. “At least you can have the satisfaction of punching his fool
-head!”
-
-“It doesn’t seem to me,” answered Toby dryly, “that that would be
-conclusive evidence of my innocence.”
-
-“Who said it would be? It would make things a lot easier, though,
-wouldn’t it? It would for me, I’ll bet! Give me leave and I’ll do it
-for you!”
-
-“Much obliged, but I wouldn’t get much satisfaction out of it, I guess.
-No, the only thing is to――――”
-
-“What?” asked Arnold as Toby’s voice died into silence.
-
-Toby shook his head. “Nothing. Stand it, I suppose. After all, it
-doesn’t much matter. And I don’t believe Collins will keep me on very
-long. I guess he sort of half thinks I’m shielding some one else.”
-
-“You’re not, are you?” demanded Arnold suspiciously.
-
-Toby laughed. “Well, where were you at nine o’clock that night, Arn?”
-
-“Don’t be a gillie! I suppose you know that Frick will get your place
-on the First? Mr. Lyle will have to take some one over, and he’s the
-best there is left, isn’t he?”
-
-“Yes. I――I hadn’t thought of that.”
-
-“Well, think of it,” growled Arnold. “Not that it’ll do you much good!”
-
-Toby did think of it. It seemed to make things much clearer to his
-mind. Whether Frick had recognized his assailant or not, he was
-accusing him because he wanted his place on the First. It was quite
-simple. Frick probably thought that Toby had no suspicion of Tubb and
-that Tubb would certainly not spoil the plot by confessing. This if
-Frick had recognized Tubb. Toby was inclined to think that he had.
-
-Anyway, Frick’s scheme was a success. Toby had not seen George Tubb
-and he didn’t mean to. Tubb ought to take the blame, of course, but
-Toby meant to leave the matter in his own hands. He couldn’t altogether
-blame Tubb for taking vengeance on Frick, in view of the latter’s
-offenses, and while Toby had no desire to be a martyr he had grown to
-like Tubb and didn’t want him to lose his well-earned position on the
-School Team. So far as it was a question of the good of the School, it
-was far better for him to be punished than for Tubb to be. His loss to
-the team meant very little, while Tubb’s absence in the Broadwood game
-would be keenly felt. So, secretly, bitterly resentful toward Frick but
-harboring no grudge toward any one else, Toby took his medicine.
-
-Being on probation cut him off from many privileges, amongst them that
-of seeing Yardley beat St. John’s on Saturday. Half the school made the
-journey and returned home triumphing. The score was 12 to 0 and the
-game was hard-fought and bristling with brilliant plays by both teams.
-Tom Fanning, Larry Snowden and Ted Halliday came back crowned with the
-laurel wreathes of heroes, although there were few on the Blue team who
-didn’t deserve high praise. Coach Lyle’s charges had worked together
-and individually in a manner to make the School proud of them, and that
-Saturday evening saw a big and enthusiastic celebration in the Assembly
-Hall and, later, outside. Toby didn’t attend it, since he was forbidden
-to leave his room after supper without permission from the Office, but
-he watched the triumphal end of it from his window and, although none
-heard but he, added his voice to the cheering. He felt rather lonely
-and rather downhearted that night, and even Arnold’s return a little
-later failed to cheer him much. Arnold was sympathetic, but to-night he
-was in an elated mood and very full of the afternoon’s game and the
-evening’s jollification, and Toby’s mood didn’t respond.
-
-On Sunday afternoon Toby ran into George Tubb on the stairs. They had
-not met save in passing since the night of Frick’s escapade, and now of
-the two, Toby was the more embarrassed. He would have passed on up to
-his room, but Tubb wouldn’t have it. “Hold on,” said Tubb. “What’s your
-hurry? Let’s go for a tramp.”
-
-“Can’t, thanks, I’m in bounds just at present.” Toby smiled to show
-that he didn’t mind, but Tubb scowled.
-
-“Look here,” he said, “I want to talk to you about that, Tucker. Come
-on outside somewhere. You can walk down to the field, can’t you?”
-
-Toby could, and, after a second’s hesitation, decided that he would.
-Once away from the buildings Tubb broke forth indignantly.
-
-“Say, what sort of a game do you call that?” he exclaimed. “You make me
-promise to lay off Frick, and then you go and pound him up yourself!
-What’s the big idea, Tucker? I don’t get it!”
-
-Toby stared. “And I don’t get you, Tubb,” he said finally. “You know
-mighty well I didn’t touch Frick!”
-
-“You didn’t? Then who――then why――Look here, aren’t you on pro for it?”
-
-Toby nodded. “But I didn’t do it. I don’t _know_ who did it. Do you?”
-Toby spoke carelessly, but Tubb’s eyes narrowed.
-
-“Do I? Why should I? You don’t think――――” Tubb stopped and swung Toby
-around by the arm. “You don’t think I did it, do you?”
-
-“Why, I haven’t said――――”
-
-“That means you do! Why the dickens haven’t you said so? What are you
-up to?”
-
-“Do you mean that you didn’t, Tubb?” asked Toby incredulously.
-
-“Of course I didn’t,” was the impatient answer. “I said I wouldn’t,
-didn’t I?”
-
-“You said you’d think about it.”
-
-“Well, it’s the same thing, you chump! Let’s get this settled, Tucker.
-What do you know about it, anyway?”
-
-“I thought I knew all about it,” replied Toby in puzzlement, “but I
-guess I don’t know anything. If it wasn’t you, and it wasn’t me, and
-Frick says it was me, and――――”
-
-“Hold up! Better begin at the beginning. I’ve heard a lot of crazy
-stories about it. You tell me it the way it was.”
-
-So Toby did. And when he had finished Tubb shook his head bewilderedly.
-“I don’t blame you for suspecting me,” he said. “But I was over in
-Dudley and I can prove it by two or three fellows. And that knuckle
-really did get skinned just as I told you. But that doesn’t explain
-the business, does it? Some one else had it in for Frick and laid for
-him. Either Frick knows who did it or he doesn’t know. If he does know
-he lied to Doctor Collins, if he doesn’t know――well, he still lied
-perhaps, but he might have thought it was you, Tucker. Is there any
-other chap in school that looks like you?”
-
-Toby shrugged. “There may be. I don’t know. I don’t suppose I know just
-what I look like, for that matter. I guess there are other fellows
-with――with hair like mine, though. That won’t get us anywhere.”
-
-“No, I guess not. Look here, why not go to Frick and put it up to him?
-Both of us, I mean. I don’t believe he’d dare lie if we were both
-there.”
-
-“Why not? He lied, if he did lie, when Doctor Collins and I were there.
-Oh, there’s no use bothering, I guess. Let’s drop it. I’m sort of glad,
-though, that it wasn’t you, Tubb.”
-
-“Well, yes, but if you thought it was me why didn’t you tell the
-Doctor so? Why did you let him sock it to you the way he did?”
-
-“Oh, what was the use? You’d have got probation and lost the team, and
-you’re too good a player to lose.”
-
-“So that’s it?” Tubb looked away. Presently he said gruffly: “Well, it
-was mighty decent of you, Tucker. Guess I wouldn’t have done it in your
-place. Much obliged, even if――if it wasn’t any good.”
-
-“It wasn’t anything,” said Toby calmly. “I just didn’t see any use in
-letting Broadwood beat us for want of a good left end, that’s all.
-You’d have done the same, though you think you mightn’t have.”
-
-“Guess the team would have got by all right without me,” said Tubb.
-“There’s Meadows, you know. He’s pretty good, if I did beat him out for
-it. But, say, we’ve got to get to the bottom of this business, Tucker.
-It won’t do to let Frick get away with it so easy. Have they taken him
-over to the First in your place?”
-
-“I don’t think they have yet. They will, of course.”
-
-“I suppose so, unless we can put a spoke in his wheel. I’m going to
-think this thing out, Tucker.”
-
-“Help yourself. But keep away from Frick.”
-
-“We-ell, all right. Bet you I could make him tell the truth, though,”
-muttered Tubb. “The toad! You wait till we’re through with football,
-Tucker! I’ll make that guy wish he’d never been born!”
-
-“I may have something to say to him myself pretty soon,” said Toby
-thoughtfully. “Now that I know I’m not getting you in trouble――――”
-
-“Listen! You leave him to me,” said Tubb earnestly. “I don’t want him
-all messed up when I’m ready for him. I want him whole, Tucker. You
-give me first show at him and I’ll settle affairs for both of us. Is it
-a bargain?”
-
-“Yes, if you like. I want him to get what’s coming to him, but I’m not
-particular who gives it to him! Well, I must be getting back. I’ve some
-work to do. This thing of being on pro has one advantage, Tubb; it
-gives you a fine chance to improve your class standing!”
-
-Monday came, and Tuesday, and although Tubb assured Toby that he was
-still hopeful of clearing up the mystery, nothing came of it. Frick
-went to the First Team on Tuesday. Mass meetings were held on the
-slightest provocation and the school talked football from morning to
-night. The last scrimmage between the Second Team and the First was
-held on Wednesday and Toby went down and looked on. The Second, not
-yet recovered from a gruelling game with Latimer High School four days
-before which had ended in a 7 to 7 tie, and deprived of the services
-of a first-class quarter-back, was no match for the big team and was
-cruelly humbled. That was the Second’s swan-song, for when the whistle
-blew for the end she cheered the First and then cheered for herself and
-then, cavorting and yelling, piled up the hill to the gymnasium while,
-from the stands, followed a long cheer with three rousing “Seconds!”
-on the end of it. After Wednesday, save for “skull practice” in the
-gymnasium in the evenings and a thorough signal drill on Thursday,
-there was nothing to be done but wait for Saturday and the enemy’s
-invasion.
-
-Toby had become fairly reconciled to his state by Thursday, and was
-inclined to make fun of George Tubb’s efforts to fasten the guilt of
-the assault on the right person. But Tubb refused to give up, although
-he was clearly discouraged. Or he was until Friday. Then, just after
-supper, he pounced in on Toby in Number 12 and asked a breathless
-question.
-
-“Didn’t you tell me once that the guy who punched you the day you
-fellows played Greenburg High had red hair?” he asked.
-
-“Did I? I may have. Anyway, he did.”
-
-“How big was he?”
-
-“Oh, I don’t know. Why?”
-
-“Never mind why! Answer the question! Was he bigger than you?”
-
-“N-no, about the same height, I guess, and maybe about my build. You’re
-not trying to make it out that――――”
-
-“Never mind what I’m trying to do! That’s all! Much obliged to you!”
-And Tubb rushed out again.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIV
-
-FRICK IS CALLED AWAY
-
-
-That momentous Saturday dawned crisp and bright. Yardley Hall School
-was early afoot and there was, from the first awakening, a flood
-of contagious excitement, repressed during chapel but let loose
-immediately afterwards. Breakfast, for the average boy was hilarious,
-for the two dozen or so fellows who would or might meet Broadwood in
-the afternoon it was a trying ordeal at which the usual viands had lost
-their flavor and where swallowing was often a painful task. Fortunately
-for both faculty and students, experience had taught the futility of
-holding the usual Saturday recitations on the morning of the Broadwood
-contest, and all but a very few were abandoned.
-
-Toby awoke in excellent spirits that day. After all, a fellow can’t
-have everything he wants, and here was a corking morning, the big game
-at hand and Yardley trained to the moment; and Toby concluded that he
-had no grouch coming to him! Besides, if playing on the School Team
-meant being in such a state of mind as Arnold was in, why, one was
-much better off it! For Arnold had a horrible case of stage-fright.
-He fidgeted and gloomed and was alternately a pest and a subject for
-the deepest sympathy. Toby had but one recitation, at eleven, and so,
-after breakfast, he set himself the task of keeping Arnold from jumping
-into the river or biting holes in the pavement. A walk seemed the best
-medicine, and the two strolled down to the tennis courts and watched
-there awhile and then across the field――Toby tossing his cap over the
-cross-bar of the south goal for good-luck――and went upstream along the
-river bank. Of course Arnold talked nothing but football, and Toby let
-him chatter to his heart’s content. Talking appeared to make Arnold
-less glum. Finally they struck inland by the golf links and dodged
-balls for a half-mile on the way back, reaching Whitson again at about
-ten, unaware that a visitor had called and, finding Toby absent, had
-gone his way again without leaving his card.
-
-Arnold wandered off after a few minutes and Toby tried to prime himself
-a little for the coming recitation. Then, just before eleven, he
-clattered downstairs and over to Oxford, pausing once or twice to
-hold jerky conversation with excited friends. Followed a harrowing
-half-hour, harrowing for Mr. McIntyre, otherwise known as “Kilts,” the
-mathematics instructor, and for a roomful of restless and, for the
-nonce, surprisingly stupid boys. There was an audible sigh of relief
-at dismissal, a sigh that swelled to a shout as the fellows gained
-the doorway and piled out onto the sunlit steps of the old granite
-building. Toby lingered to talk to Steve Lippman a minute, and there
-Billy Tarrant, the assistant manager of the School Team, found him
-after a long search. Tarrant pushed his way through the crowd and
-grabbed Toby’s arm.
-
-“You’re wanted in commons, Tucker,” he announced. “Get a move on!”
-
-Toby hung back. “What for?” he asked. “Who wants me?”
-
-“Mr. Lyle. I don’t know what for. Something about the team. Come on!
-I’ve been hunting you for half an hour.”
-
-“Oh! Well, all right.” Toby followed obediently, wondering nevertheless.
-Half-way, a simple explanation presented itself. Perhaps the Yardley
-fellow who was to have handled the chain in the game couldn’t serve, and
-they were going to let him do it. Toby concluded that this was his lucky
-day after all. The dining-room doors were closed, but Tarrant thrust
-open the nearer one and pushed Toby inside. The First Team crowd were
-seated around the training table. Mr. Lyle was talking and Tarrant and
-Toby trod on their tiptoes down the length of the room. Andy Ryan arose
-and noiselessly set chairs for the new arrivals, and Toby seated himself
-gingerly, aware that many of the gathering had glanced at him curiously
-and that Arnold’s countenance was one big exclamation point! Then,
-between the heads of those near him, he caught a glimpse of George
-Tubb’s face, and George was looking at him and making silent words with
-his lips that Toby couldn’t read. He shook his head helplessly and tried
-to listen to the coach. Mr. Lyle was going over his instructions for the
-battle in a very quiet tone. Now and then he asked a question and some
-one answered, once or twice wrongly. But Toby, consumed by curiosity,
-heard little of the discourse. Even when the manager wheeled a
-blackboard over and the coach made circles and straight lines and wavy
-lines with a piece of chalk, and every one else watched with almost
-painful attention and in perfectly soggy silence, Toby just kept right
-on wondering why he was there. For an outsider to be present during
-these mystic rites was absolutely unheard of! For a wild, breathless
-moment the idea came to him that Doctor Collins had relented and that he
-had been reinstated on the team. But that was too improbable, too absurd
-for credence! Besides, there was Roy Frick over there, looking
-supercilious and self-important.
-
-Then the coach stopped talking, the blackboard was moved back to the
-wall and there was a great scraping of chairs. And almost at the same
-moment the waiters came in with loaded trays and a cold lunch was set
-on the table, big platters of sandwiches and dishes of plain cake and
-pitchers of steaming hot cocoa and of milk and bowls of oranges, and
-every one began helping himself and eating where he sat or stood. Every
-one, that is, but Toby. Toby sat where he had been put and looked on in
-puzzlement. Or he did until the coach remembered him and, a sandwich in
-one hand and a cup of cocoa in the other, came to him.
-
-“No appetite, Tucker?” he asked cheerfully. “That won’t do. Better try
-some of this hot cocoa and worry a couple of sandwiches down. I guess
-I know how you feel, my boy, but there’s no call to be nervous.”
-
-“No, sir,” gulped Toby. “I――I’m not nervous, Mr. Lyle. I――――”
-
-“That’s right! Wade in and get some food then. Glad you got back to us,
-Tucker.” The coach turned away again, his eye on the sandwich platter,
-and Toby followed him.
-
-“Mr. Lyle!” The coach stopped. “Mr. Lyle, will you please tell me what
-you――what the――what I’m doing here?”
-
-“Eh? What you’re doing here? Why, you’re supposed to get your luncheon,
-Tucker. What do you mean?”
-
-“But――but I’m not on the team, sir, and I don’t understand. Tarrant
-said you wanted me over here and――――”
-
-“Didn’t he tell you why? Didn’t Tubb tell you? Hasn’t _any one_ told
-you?”
-
-Toby shook his head mutely, almost apologetically.
-
-“Well!” The coach took Toby’s arm and walked him over toward a window.
-“I’m sorry. Tucker,” he said, “I thought of course you knew. Not that
-I know much myself, though. All I do know is that Tubb came bounding
-to me an hour or more ago and told me you were square at the Office
-and wanted me to put you back. He said there had been a mistake and
-that you hadn’t done what you were supposed to have done. I told him
-I didn’t think you’d be an awful lot of use, after being out for more
-than a week, but that I was quite willing to have you back on the
-squad anyway. So I called up the Office and found it was all right
-and sent Tarrant to look for you. That’s all I know, Tucker. If I can
-work you in for a minute I’ll do it, but I make no promises. It’s sort
-of hard lines on you, though, and I’ll do my best. Have you forgotten
-everything you knew?”
-
-“No, sir!” gasped Toby. “Only――only I guess you’d better not try to use
-me, Mr. Lyle, because I don’t know the signals very well.”
-
-“Do you know them at all?”
-
-“Yes, sir, a little. I room with Deering, and he’s coached me some so I
-could sort of coach him.”
-
-“Get Curran to go through them with you. I’ll speak to him. If you’ll
-get them pat between now and the last half, Tucker, I’ll see that you
-get your letter. Now get some food into you.”
-
-Toby seized on as many sandwiches as one hand would hold and poured out
-a glass of milk. Then he made his way around the table to Tubb. “What
-happened?” he whispered.
-
-Tubb grinned. “Thought you’d be over here to ask pretty soon! I’ll
-tell you all about it, Tucker. Wait till I get another hunk of cake.
-Cake’s pretty good stuff when you’ve been off it a month or so! Guess
-this sort won’t hurt you if you eat a loaf of it! Now, then. Remember
-telling me that Frick――――” Tubb lowered his voice and glanced about
-him, edging further from the throng. “Remember telling me that Frick
-had a row with some of the town boys one night a long while ago?”
-
-Toby nodded. “Arnold told me about it,” he said.
-
-“Well. Then do you remember telling me about a red-headed chap who
-punched you in the face the day the Second played Greenburg?”
-
-Toby began to see light. “You mean he was the one who――――”
-
-“Sure! All I did was put two and two together. Then, last night, I
-risked being caught out of bounds and hunted the guy up. It wasn’t
-hard. The first loafer in Greenburg I asked recognized the description
-and sent me to a pool parlor. He was there all right and I got him to
-come outside and talk. He was willing to talk, too. Seems that he
-and two or three others got into a scrap with about the same number
-of our fellows one evening just across the bridge and he and Frick
-sort of took to each other and were having a merry scrap until Frick
-pulled something hard from a pocket and cut this chap’s scalp open.
-Sheehan――that’s the guy’s name――says he thinks Frick used a bunch of
-keys or something like that. He doesn’t think it was a knife, anyway.
-Our fellows got away――or the others did, and that ended it. Sheehan
-says it was a nice little scrap, only Frick shouldn’t have sprung the
-‘rough stuff’! So he got sore and decided he’d lay for Frick and get
-even. Says he tried three or four times, but each time he saw Frick
-there were fellows with him. But the other night he found him and got
-him!”
-
-“He oughtn’t to have done it the way he did, though. I mean it was sort
-of rotten to have some one else hold Frick while――――”
-
-“Huh! That’s the joker, Tucker!”
-
-“What do you mean?”
-
-“There wasn’t any other fellow! Sheehan got as sore as a pup when I
-said something about that. Says he was alone and that every time he
-knocked Frick down he had to lift him up again! Says Frick was game,
-all right, but had to beg off finally. Then Sheehan found his cap for
-him and went with him almost to the top of the Prospect because he was
-pretty wobbly on his pins.”
-
-“What do you know!” exclaimed Toby. “But why――――”
-
-“Because he didn’t want any one to know that he’d been licked in a fair
-fight. And, another thing, Tucker: I asked Sheehan if Frick knew who he
-was fighting with, and Sheehan said, sure he did, that he took pains to
-tell him! So, you see, friend Frick lied all the way through. When he
-got to thinking things out he saw that if he could put the blame on you
-he’d get you off the team and probably get your place.”
-
-“I guess so,” agreed Toby. “I’m most awfully much obliged to you, Tubb.
-You’re a perfect brick to take so much trouble and――――”
-
-“Ginger! I enjoyed it. I tried to find you this morning the first
-chance I got, but you were off somewhere. So I went right over to the
-Office and waited around and saw the Doctor and told him the whole
-yarn. I offered to get Sheehan up here if the Doctor would agree not to
-make trouble for him. Sheehan was sort of afraid he might be arrested
-or something, I guess. But the Doctor said he’d take my word for it.
-After that I looked for you again, but you had a class, I guess, and
-then it was time to come over here. And that’s the whole business. How
-do I stand as a Sherlock W. Holmes?”
-
-“A1,” laughed Toby. “But, listen, what about Frick? What did the Doctor
-say about him?” Toby looked around in search of that youth but couldn’t
-see him.
-
-“No use looking for him,” chuckled Tubb. “He went out five minutes
-ago. Some one came to the door and called him. Don’t believe we’ll see
-him again for awhile! He will be lucky if they let him stick around. I
-wouldn’t be surprised if he got fired, though. It might be just as well
-for him if he did,” Tubb added grimly, “because if he’s around here
-the day after to-morrow he’s going to be awfully sorry for some of the
-things he’s done!”
-
-“All over to the gym!” called Andy Ryan.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXV
-
-FOURTH DOWN
-
-
-For thirty minutes of actual playing time the Blue of Yardley and the
-Green of Broadwood had advanced and retreated up and down the trampled
-field of battle. And now the fifteen minute intermission was nearing
-its end and the rival cheering sections ceased their songs and the
-cheer leaders, megaphones in hand, watched the slope for sight of
-the returning warriors. Then the cheers broke forth and the squads
-trotted down the hill, Yardley in the lead, and blue flags waved and
-green pennants fluttered and pandemonium reigned. On the scoreboard
-no chalked figures followed the names of the contenders, for neither
-side had scored. Never perhaps in the history of the schools had their
-teams waged a closer conflict. Not once had the ball been inside either
-twenty-five-yard line in scrimmage, not once had the Blue or the Green
-seriously threatened the opposing goal. It had been a hard-fought,
-gruelling battle in mid-field, the ball constantly changing hands.
-No errors of judgment had given advantage, no fumbles had marred the
-almost perfect play. Twice penalties had been exacted, once from each
-team. Machine-like smoothness, thorough teamwork had been the order
-all through the first two periods, and individual brilliancy had been
-subordinated. Both teams seemed loath to break away from the safety of
-old-style football, and line-plunges interspersed with dashes outside
-tackle had ruled. Once Broadwood had tried a forward-pass, but it had
-failed and she had not attempted a second. It was still anybody’s game.
-
-Neither side made any changes as the third period started. For Yardley
-the line-up was still as before: Tubb, Fanning, Rose, Simpson,
-Casement, Bryan, Halliday, Noyes, Roover, Deering, Snowden. It was
-Broadwood’s kick-off and Yardley hustled the ball back to her twenty
-and went at the line again. The Green stopped her for seven yards and
-Snowden punted to the rival’s twenty-odd. Broadwood tried the left end
-and made four, tried the center and lost two, sent her backs at right
-tackle and gained three, and punted to Yardley’s forty. Deering caught
-and skirted back ten before he was upset. Roover got two past right
-tackle and three inside right guard. Deering fought through for two
-more. Snowden punted. And so it went while the precious minutes sped.
-
-On the bench, huddled in sweater and blanket, Toby watched anxiously
-with the others. And as he watched he strove to keep in mind the lesson
-that Curran had been teaching him since an hour before the game. The
-new signals were simple, but there were three sequences that wouldn’t
-stay put in his mind. Of course, it probably didn’t matter much whether
-he remembered them or didn’t, for it was safe to say that the coach
-would not let him in until the game was either well won or lost beyond
-the possibility of recovery. But it was like Toby to keep hammering
-away just the same.
-
-Noyes misjudged a punt, his first error, and for a long and anxious
-four minutes Broadwood hovered about the Blue’s thirty-yards, the
-ball in her possession. Then the second forward-pass of the game was
-intercepted by Tubb, and, although he could not get away, he clung
-tightly to it when tackled and a moment later Snowden had again punted
-far down the field. Ten minutes had passed of the precious thirty
-left. Broadwood, fighting back, piled through Yardley’s center for six
-yards and the green pennants waved and Broadwood voices shouted their
-triumph. Noyes, limping and white-faced, came off and Winfield took his
-place at quarter and the Green made her distance for the third time
-that day. But she was still on her own ground. A full-back run ended
-disastrously and she punted to Winfield on his own thirty-seven and
-that slim youth dodged and weaved his way through half the opposing
-team and was only downed when twenty yards lay behind him. Yardley
-implored a touchdown in measured chorus. With three to go on fourth
-down, Yardley hesitated. Before she had decided the whistle signaled
-the end of the quarter.
-
-On the stands the supporters of the Blue spoke sadly or hopefully of
-a no-score game. The teams sought the water buckets and lined up once
-more. But now there were new faces in the opposing ranks. Both sides
-had begun to call on their reserves. Snow went in for Casement and
-Candee for Simpson on the Blue team and Broadwood put in a new end and
-a new half-back.
-
-Winfield called for the three yards on a double-pass play that sent
-Deering outside left tackle and just failed of the distance. Broadwood
-opened up her play then. Two forward-passes were tried, of which the
-first failed and the second won a short ten yards. A fake-kick, with
-the quarter holding the pigskin, added seven more. Yardley rooters
-watched in silent agony now. The Green piled through for the rest of
-the distance and the Broadwood stands went crazy with joy. But there
-was still a long way to go and Yardley found herself again after
-another play or two and held for downs when six inches would have given
-Broadwood a new life. Then came a wild and thrilling end run by Deering
-that took the ball over four white lines and placed it on Broadwood’s
-thirty-six. But a fumble by the Blue’s quarter spoiled it and Broadwood
-recovered the ball. Three attempts netted little and the ball sailed
-back up the field. Winfield again misjudged and the pigskin went over
-his head and trickled closer and closer to the Blue’s goal-line,
-Deering and Winfield in pursuit and two eager Broadwood ends almost
-upon them. It was Arnold who fell on the ball safely just short of his
-fifteen-yard-line and who clung to it stoutly while the enemy pounced
-down on him.
-
-“Six minutes left,” growled Curran, at Toby’s side. “Why don’t we open
-up? Winfield acts as if we hadn’t a play in the bag but line-plunges!”
-
-Noyes, nearby, almost too wearied to hold up his head, grunted.
-
-“They know everything we’ve got, Curran,” he said. “Watch them when
-we give the signals. They’re wise to every move! And those backs are
-wonders! We can’t get away from ’em.”
-
-“Well, we might try!” retorted Curran savagely. “No use lying down, is
-there? There we go, back at the old hammer again! What’s Tom up to?
-Oh, Winfield’s coming off. You in again? But you can’t. Who’s Mr. Lyle
-after? It’s you, Tucker! Boy, it’s you! Remember those signals and
-shake it up, Tucker, shake it up!”
-
-“Tucker! Come on, come on!” Mr. Lyle was calling and beckoning. Toby,
-with heart pounding and his throat hot, ran to him on the side-line.
-“Here’s your chance. Know the signals? Good! Get in there and put some
-punch into that team. Tell Fanning I say he’s got to open up. Tell him
-the time’s come to score! Give ’em some running plays, boy. Put ginger
-into that bunch. Here, Snow! Go in for Casement. All right, Tucker!
-Beat it!”
-
-Cheers and more cheers, cheers for Winfield and for Casement, cheers
-for the substitutes speeding on, cheers from across the field, a medley
-of mad sound that beat on Toby’s ears like a cataract. Then he was in
-the squad, Fanning twitching him aside, Arnold thumping him on the
-back, Snowden, white and gasping, patting his shoulder imploringly.
-“Let me get at ’em, Tucker, will you? Let me try ’em, will you? Let
-me――――”
-
-“Shut up, Larry! What’s the word?” Tom Fanning pulled Toby away. Toby
-gave the message.
-
-“All right! Open her up! We’ve tried their line until we’re sick of it!
-There’s six minutes yet, nearly. Come on, Yardley! Let’s get it, let’s
-get it! We can do it! What do you say?”
-
-“_Signals!_” shrilled Toby, his voice pitching itself up amongst the
-clouds as it seemed to him. “_Signals!_”
-
-It was Yardley’s ball on third down near her twenty, with five to go.
-Snowden got four of that five and then two more, making it first down
-on the twenty-five. Then began a march up the field that is still
-spoken of with bated breath at Yardley. It was a march against time.
-To the middle of the field went the Blue without a halt. Substitutes
-went into the opposing line and back-field, but still Yardley advanced.
-Snowden was the hero of that advance, Snowden first and then Deering,
-for it was Arnold who got away from Broadwood’s forty-four and plunged
-onward to her twenty-six. And after that it was Snowden again and then
-Lamson and again Snowden, and the teams were on the twelve yards.
-Broadwood was fighting for time, delaying all she dared. The two
-minutes had been announced when Toby gave the ball to Snowden for a
-final slide off tackle on the left that, if it went right, would place
-the ball well in front of the goal. And it did go right, although it
-took the last ounce of Snowden’s strength and he had to be literally
-carried off the field.
-
-Watson was hustled on in his place and Yardley was cheering wildly,
-exultantly for a score. The ball lay just over the ten-yard line now.
-Four downs would spell victory or defeat. Less than a minute remained.
-Fanning, almost ready to drop in his tracks, whispered hoarsely of a
-drop-kick. Toby, seeing his condition, knew he would never make it and
-shook his head. Fanning didn’t insist. Perhaps he was a bit relieved
-that he need not make the effort.
-
-“We’ll put it over,” declared Toby confidently. “We can do it!”
-
-But Broadwood had massed her defenses solidly and when, fighting now
-against time as well as against the enemy’s desperate resistance,
-Deering had plunged to the left off tackle with scarcely a yard to show
-for it, Toby’s confidence was disturbed. The Broadwood stand cheered
-relievedly, exultantly. Tired warriors staggered to position. A babel
-of shrill cries arose, the referee’s dominating all.
-
-“_Second, and nine to go!_”
-
-Toby studied the opposing defense, a forward pass in mind, but
-Broadwood was set for such a trick. It would never go, and if it failed
-the Green would have the ball as sure as shooting. The pigskin was
-opposite the left hand goal-post now and, lest a field-goal should
-prove the last resort, it must be kept centered. Toby thought hard and
-fast and then shrilled his signals. Heming, who had taken Snowden’s
-place, hurled himself at the living wall and floundered into it for
-nearly two yards. Broadwood and Yardley cheers mingled.
-
-“Roover back!” yelped Toby. “67――33――21!” He looked about at the drawn,
-intense faces of the three backs. “Make it good! 67――33――21――111――――”
-
-Toby slapped the ball into Roover’s arms, dug in behind him and
-followed, floundering, pushing, panting. The Green’s defense wavered,
-gave, held again. Grunts and groans and hoarse breathings filled the
-air, and through them the shrill piping of the whistle came.
-
-“_Third and seven to go!_”
-
-The fake-kick had failed to fool the enemy. Toby looked almost
-despairingly along the line, searching for some telltale sign in a
-Broadwood countenance that would hint of failing strength, but he saw
-none. Distress there was in plenty, but grim determination as well.
-Seven yards still to go and but two downs left! If only Snowden had
-remained to try the field-goal! Roover might do it, but Roover was
-spent and reeling. A horrid fear that failure was to be their portion
-took possession of Toby for an instant and his heart sank. But the
-instant passed and he raised his voice cheerfully, encouragingly:
-
-“That’s the stuff, Yardley! One more like that and we’re over! They’re
-quitting! Get into this hard! Here’s where we win! Signals!”
-
-Heming again, with Roover once more back in kicking position, Heming
-smashing at the opposing right guard, stopping, edging on, and again
-stopping, with every Broadwood defender massed before him, thrusting,
-grunting, fighting like mad. And again the whistle and the quick voice
-of the referee.
-
-“_Fourth down! Five and a half to go!_”
-
-“_Twelve seconds!_” shouted some one.
-
-“Come on, Yardley!” shrieked Toby. “Get in there, Snow! Let’s finish
-it! You’ve got to do it this time! It’s your last chance, fellows! Hold
-that line now! Hold it! Roover back!”
-
-The Broadwood defense widened, the backs spread, the ends poised to
-dash around on the kicker. And Toby, noting, was triumphant. Something
-had called back to memory that day when, volunteering to play quarter
-on the second and finding his mind blank of plays, he had unwittingly
-sent a half straight into the line and made the distance. It was
-the unexpected that won then, he reflected, and now it must be the
-unexpected to win again. Broadwood was certain that the enemy would not
-waste her last chance on a line assault with more than five yards to
-go. Broadwood looked for a try-at-goal or, failing that, a short, quick
-heave over the line. Toby looked around. A half must take the ball, for
-the play must go fast. He wanted Arnold, but Arnold was not fit for
-the task. Heming, fresher, his young face white with excitement and
-longing under the streaks of dirt, must make the attempt. Toby called
-the signals. The tense bodies stiffened. The ball shot back from center
-to Heming. Roover feigned to catch and kick. The Broadwood ends came
-racing in. Confusion reigned, and in the very center of it, plunging,
-fighting, the Yardley ends and backs behind him, was Heming.
-
-Straight at center he had gone. There was no hole awaiting him, but
-the assault was so sudden, so unexpected that the enemy gave and he
-went smashing through. Then the Broadwood backs threw themselves to
-the rescue and the line held. For a moment the advance paused and the
-referee’s whistle went to his lips, and in that moment Roover charged
-in behind the struggling wedge, the mass moved forward again, a foot,
-a yard, faster, and yet faster! And then, suddenly the defense fell
-to pieces and Heming, his head and shoulders well above the sea of
-writhing bodies, shot forward and down and was gone from sight. And
-from the Yardley stands arose a straining shout that reached even Toby,
-buried deep in the wake of the victory!
-
- * * * * *
-
-A few minutes later, when goal had been tried for and missed, when
-cheers were hurtling up at a shadowing sky and the field of battle was
-a mad scene of Yardley rejoicing, Toby, rather the worse for wear, got
-to his feet, assisted by Arnold and Tubb, while about them an impatient
-mob waited to seize them and carry them off. He cast an apologetic
-look at Arnold.
-
-“I’m awfully sorry, Arn,” he panted.
-
-“Sorry for what?” demanded the other.
-
-“That fourth down. I wanted you to have the ball, Arn, but I didn’t
-dare. You were too done up. It had to be Heming, honest!”
-
-“Oh, forget it, old dear! Of course it had to be Heming! What do you
-suppose I care? We won, didn’t we?”
-
-“Did we?” exclaimed Tubb exultantly. “_Did we!_ Why, say――――”
-
-“Then that’s all right,” said Toby happily. “I was afraid――――”
-
-But Toby’s fear was never voiced then, for the waiting mob descended on
-them and rude hands hoisted them aloft, and Toby, bobbing about above
-the heads of the laughing, shouting, pushing throng, knew for a moment
-a joy of triumph as great as Alexander’s after the Battle of Issus!
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-
- Transcriber’s Notes:
-
- ――Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
-
- ――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.
-
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-<pre style='margin-bottom:6em;'>The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fourth Down!, by Ralph Henry Barbour
-
-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
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this ebook.
-
-Title: Fourth Down!
-
-Author: Ralph Henry Barbour
-
-Release Date: December 05, 2020 [EBook #63892]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-Produced by: Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
- at https://www.pgdp.net
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOURTH DOWN! ***
-</pre>
-
-<div class="figcenter" id="cover">
- <img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="cover" title="cover" />
-</div>
-
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<p class="noic halftitle">FOURTH DOWN</p>
-
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="figcenter" id="i_frontis">
- <img src="images/i_frontis.jpg" alt="" title="" />
- <br />
- <div class="caption"><a href="#Page_316">IN THE VERY CENTER OF IT, PLUNGING, FIGHTING, WAS HEMING</a></div>
-</div>
-
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h1>FOURTH DOWN!</h1>
-
-
-<p class="p2 noic">BY</p>
-
-<p class="noi author">RALPH HENRY BARBOUR</p>
-
-<p class="noi works">AUTHOR OF “THE PLAY THAT WON,”<br />
-“THE LOST DIRIGIBLE,” ETC.</p>
-
-<div class="pad4">
-<div class="logocenter" id="logo">
- <img src="images/logo.jpg" style="width: 100%" alt="logo" title="logo" />
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="p4 noic"><span class="adauthor">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY</span><br />
-NEW YORK                LONDON<br />
-1920</p>
-
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<p class="noic"><span class="allsmcap">COPYRIGHT</span>, 1920, <span class="allsmcap">BY</span></p>
-
-<p class="noic">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY</p>
-
-<p class="p4 noi works">PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p>
-
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
-
-
-<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
-<col style="width: 20%;" />
-<col style="width: 70%;" />
-<col style="width: 10%;" />
-<tr>
- <th class="pr smfontr">CHAPTER</th>
- <th class="tdl"></th>
- <th class="smfontr">PAGE</th>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">I.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">Back to School</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">1</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">II.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">New Quarters</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">15</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">III.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">Sid Offers Advice</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">25</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">IV.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">G. W. Tubb</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">37</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">V.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">With the Second</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">46</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">VI.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">Signals</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">57</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">VII.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">Toby Makes a Call</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">67</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">VIII.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">Tubb Tries Football</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">79</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">IX.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">Yardley Plays Greenburg</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">94</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">X.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">Toby Empties His Locker</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">105</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XI.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">Tom Fanning, Optimist</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">117</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XII.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">First Team Vs. Second</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">136</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XIII.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">Team-Mates Fall Out</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">146</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XIV.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">Toby at Quarter</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">156</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XV.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">The “Tough Bunch”</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">169</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XVI.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">Tubb Wins Promotion</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">189</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XVII.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">An “Accident”</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">201</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XVIII.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">A Quarter-Back Run</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">218</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XIX.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">Arnold Has a Thought</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">231</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XX.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">An Encounter on the Beach</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">241</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XXI.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">Tubb Barks a Knuckle</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">255</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XXII.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">A Visit to the Office</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">269</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XXIII.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">Tubb on the Trail</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">283</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XXIV.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">Frick Is Called Away</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">294</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XXV.</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">Fourth Down</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">305</td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_1"></a>[1]</span></p>
-
-<p class="noi title" id="FOURTH_DOWN">FOURTH DOWN</p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I<br />
-<small>BACK TO SCHOOL</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">“We ought to be there in about twenty
-minutes,” observed Arnold Deering,
-glancing at his watch.</p>
-
-<p>One of his companions in the day-coach tossed
-the magazine he had been idly glancing through, to
-the top of the pile of suitcases beside him, yawned
-widely, and nodded without enthusiasm.</p>
-
-<p>“If nothing happens,” he agreed.</p>
-
-<p>“What’s going to happen, you chump?”</p>
-
-<p>“Nothing, I suppose. Only, something might.
-There might be an earthquake, or the train might
-jump the track, or——”</p>
-
-<p>“Or you might talk sense, Frank! As for jumping
-the track, this old train couldn’t jump a crack
-in the floor! I guess you’re wishing something
-would happen so you wouldn’t have to go back.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_2"></a>[2]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” Frank Lamson answered
-doubtfully. “I guess I don’t mind—much. School’s
-all right after a day or two. It’s getting into the
-swing, just at first, that’s hard.”</p>
-
-<p>“In the interest of education,” proclaimed Arnold
-pompously, “I move that summer vacations be
-abolished.”</p>
-
-<p>“Put it the other way around,” said Frank, “and
-I’ll second the motion. Joking aside, though, summer
-vacations are fine, but they certainly spoil a
-chap for hard work.” He shook his head dolefully.
-He was a heavily-built youth of seventeen, but the
-heaviness was that of bone and sinew rather than
-of fat. With regular features, dark hair and eyes
-and a healthy skin, he was undeniably good-looking,
-although the mouth somehow suggested a sort of
-lazy arrogance and led an observer to the conclusion
-that he was not invariably as amiable as at
-present. He was almost painfully correct as to
-attire.</p>
-
-<p>“Work!” sighed Arnold. “Why introduce unpleasant
-subjects? Ever since I struck Yardley
-fellows have dinned it into me that this year is
-the toughest of all. ‘If you think Third Class is
-hard,’ they said, ‘just wait till you’re in Second!’
-It doesn’t sound good to me, Frank!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_3"></a>[3]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Piffle! Fellows always talk that way. Even
-First Class fellows shake their heads and tell you
-they’re the hardest worked bunch in school, and
-any one with a grain of sense knows that the last
-year’s a perfect cinch. Anyway, you don’t need
-to worry. You’re starting clean. I’ve got a condition
-to work off, worse luck. I’m the one who
-ought to be sore.”</p>
-
-<p>“Too bad,” said Arnold sympathetically. “Still,
-‘Old Tige’s’ bark is worse than his bite, Frank.
-You’ll get clear all right.”</p>
-
-<p>“Hope so.” Frank leaned across the piled-up
-luggage to look through the window. A fleeting
-glimpse of the sun-flecked surface of Long Island
-Sound met his vision, and he frowned, mentally
-contrasting the lazy, frolic-filled days of the passing
-summer with the duties drawing nearer every minute.
-“Light House Point,” he said, nodding.
-“Greenburg in ten minutes.”</p>
-
-<p>“If nothing happens,” quoted Arnold, with a
-smile. Like the boy opposite him, he was seventeen
-years of age, and, like him, too, he was extremely
-well-dressed. But in Arnold Deering’s case the attire
-appeared to stop short of effort, or it may
-have been that he was less conscious of it. While
-it is fair to call Frank good-looking it is no exaggeration<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_4"></a>[4]</span>
-to say that Arnold was handsome. A
-straight nose under a broad forehead, deep brown
-eyes, a mouth showing good-temper, and a round
-chin, all went to make up a countenance extremely
-attractive. He wore his dark brown hair brushed
-straight back, a style that went well both with
-his face and with his height and slenderness. There
-was nothing effeminate about him, though. He
-was not what fellows contemptuously call a “pretty
-boy” and his slim frame was well-muscled and suggested
-the best of physical condition.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t think I’d mind if something did happen,”
-answered Frank, rather disconsolately, “so long as
-it put off the evil day.”</p>
-
-<p>“Cheer up, old thing!” laughed Arnold. “To-morrow
-you’ll be as gay as a lark, won’t he, Toby?”</p>
-
-<p>The third member of the party, who, next the
-window, had been occupied with a magazine for the
-last half-hour, turned a pair of very blue eyes
-toward the speaker and smiled. Although he had
-been following the story closely, the conversation
-of his companions had not been entirely lost to
-him, and Arnold’s question had reached him between
-the last word on page 19 and the continuation
-on an elusive page 134. “I’d never expect to see
-Frank as gay as a lark,” he replied readily. “If<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5"></a>[5]</span>
-you had said as happy as a seagull, though——”
-He returned to the search for page 134.</p>
-
-<p>“Seagull?” protested Arnold. “The silly things
-never <em>are</em> happy! They’re always crying and making
-a fuss.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, they’re happy enough,” said the other, with
-a twinkle in his eyes, “but they don’t want to think
-so!”</p>
-
-<p>Arnold laughed and Frank said, “You go to the
-dickens, Toby,” but grinned a little as he said it.
-There had been a time when he would have taken
-Toby Tucker’s jest not so amiably, but closer intimacy
-with that youth had rendered his dignity less
-tender.</p>
-
-<p>“Toby’s got you sized up, Frank,” laughed
-Arnold. “You do like to grouch a bit, you know.”</p>
-
-<p>“We all do, at times,” said Toby, comfortingly.
-He found the page he was seeking and settled back
-again. But Arnold plucked the magazine from his
-hands and tossed it to the opposite seat.</p>
-
-<p>“We’re nearly in Greenburg, T. Tucker,” he said.
-“Sit up like a gentleman and talk to us.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby looked reproachfully at his friend and regretfully
-at the magazine. Then he smiled. He
-had rather a remarkable smile, had Toby. It made
-you forget that his nose was too short, his chin<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"></a>[6]</span>
-almost aggressively square, his tanned face too
-liberally freckled, his hair undeniably red. It made
-him almost good-looking and eminently likable.
-Tobias Tucker’s smile was a valuable asset to him,
-although he didn’t know it.</p>
-
-<p>“What shall I talk about?” he asked. “Want me
-to tell you a dreadfully funny story?”</p>
-
-<p>“What’s it about?” demanded Arnold, suspiciously.</p>
-
-<p>“About old Cap’n Gaines,” replied Toby, innocently.
-“He——”</p>
-
-<p>“<em>Help!</em>” cried the others with unflattering unanimity.</p>
-
-<p>“If you ever try to tell that again, Toby,” added
-Arnold, very stern and very solemn, “we’ll——”</p>
-
-<p>But what was to happen in such an event was
-never told, for what happened at that moment very
-effectually ended Arnold’s discourse. There was a
-terrific grinding of brakes, a loud hissing sound,
-and an irresistible tendency on the part of every
-one and everything in the day-coach to proceed hurriedly
-to the front door. Because of various obstructions
-none succeeded, but all did their best.
-Arnold landed in Frank’s lap and Toby draped himself
-over the piled-up luggage, his head hanging
-over the back of the seat ahead. A cloud of unsuspected<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7"></a>[7]</span>
-dust filled the car as, with a series of emphatic
-and uncomfortable jerks, the train came to a
-standstill. To the accompaniment of a vocal confusion
-of cries, exclamations, and grunts, the occupants
-of the car disentangled themselves from each
-other or picked themselves from the floor.</p>
-
-<p>“Get—off—me!” groaned Frank. “You’ve—broken—my
-neck!”</p>
-
-<p>“What was it?” gasped Arnold, relieving the
-other of his unwelcome embrace. “Are we
-wrecked?”</p>
-
-<p>“I am, anyway!” growled Frank. “Where’s my
-hat? Oh, thanks!” He accepted it from a dazed
-occupant of the seat ahead. Toby Tucker retired
-from his graceful position atop the suitcases and observed
-Arnold questioningly, his straw hat tilted
-down to the bridge of his nose. Arnold chuckled.
-“Guess it was Frank’s earthquake,” he said.</p>
-
-<p>“Keep your places!” admonished a trainman, putting
-his head in the forward door. “Obstruction on
-the track! No danger!”</p>
-
-<p>“Gee!” muttered Toby. “That was some stop,
-fellows!”</p>
-
-<p>“It sure was!” agreed Frank emphatically, feeling
-doubtfully of his neck. “It nearly snapped my<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8"></a>[8]</span>
-head off! And then Arn landed on me like a ton
-of bricks.”</p>
-
-<p>“Let’s go see,” said Toby. “What’s this?” He
-raised a foot from which dangled Arnold’s hat. “I’m
-sorry. Sort of mussed, I’m afraid.”</p>
-
-<p>Arnold took it, viewed it ruefully and put it on.
-“It’s all Frank’s fault,” he grumbled as he joined
-the exodus through the nearer door. “He insisted
-that something was going to happen, and it did!”</p>
-
-<p>How near that something had come to being a
-catastrophe was revealed to them when they pushed
-their way through the throng at the head of the
-train. Not eighty feet distant from the pilot of the
-throbbing locomotive stood a lone box-car, its forward
-truck lodged against its rear. It was loaded
-and sealed and marked “Greenburg.” A curve in
-the track behind had hidden it from the fireman’s
-sight until there had remained just space in which to
-avert a collision.</p>
-
-<p>“How do you suppose it got here?” asked Frank.</p>
-
-<p>“Front truck got loose and the car broke its
-coupling, so they say,” volunteered a boy beside
-him.</p>
-
-<p>“Hello, Billy,” greeted Frank. “You on the
-train? I didn’t see you. I suppose this will hold
-us up awhile, eh?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9"></a>[9]</span></p>
-
-<p>“I thought they always had a caboose on the
-tail-end of a freight,” objected Arnold.</p>
-
-<p>“I believe they do,” agreed Billy Temple, “but
-this car and some more were on a siding about a
-mile back and they were sort of switching ’em into
-the Greenburg yard. Hello, Tucker. What car
-were you fellows in?”</p>
-
-<p>“Fourth, I guess,” answered Arnold. “If it
-hadn’t been for Frank, though, I’d have landed in
-the first when we stopped! Felt as if my spine
-was being pushed right through to the front of me!”</p>
-
-<p>“Me too,” chuckled Temple. “There was an old
-codger in my car with a basket of eggs. He got on
-at that last stop we made. There wasn’t much
-room, so he kept the eggs in his lap. Then Mr.
-Engineer put the airbrakes on and—Bingo!”</p>
-
-<p>“What happened?” demanded Arnold delightedly.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, the old gentleman and the eggs went on
-top of a fat man in front. Talk about your omelets!
-Oh, boy!”</p>
-
-<p>“Let’s go back and sit down,” suggested Toby
-when Temple’s narrative had been properly appreciated.
-“It’s too hot out here. And I suppose we
-won’t get started again for an hour.”</p>
-
-<p>“More like two,” grumbled Frank. “They’ll<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10"></a>[10]</span>
-have to send a wrecking train and lift that car out
-of the way. Rotten luck!”</p>
-
-<p>“Hark to the plaintive wail of the seagull,” murmured
-Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s right, Frank,” Arnold chuckled. “Ten
-minutes ago you wanted something to happen to
-keep you from getting to Yardley, and now——”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s all right,” answered Frank haughtily,
-“but it’s nearly four, and supper’s at six.”</p>
-
-<p>“True, O Solomon! I get your viewpoint. There
-is much in what you say. Still, if we get moving
-again in an hour or so——”</p>
-
-<p>“We might walk, if it wasn’t for the bags,”
-mused Toby. “It can’t be more than eight or nine
-miles.”</p>
-
-<p>“Eight or nine miles!” moaned Arnold. “And on
-an empty stomach!”</p>
-
-<p>“We-ell, I meant on the railroad,” said Toby demurely,
-“but if you prefer——”</p>
-
-<p>“Wish we had a pack of cards,” said Frank
-gloomily as they returned to their car. “We might
-have a three-handed game of something. Or get
-Billy Temple in here.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m going to finish that story I was reading,”
-said Toby. “You two play.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, if we can find some cards,” began Arnold,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11"></a>[11]</span>
-leading the way to their seats. Then: “What’s the
-matter with the chap over there, Toby? Nose-bleed?”
-he asked.</p>
-
-<p>Toby, following his friend’s gaze, saw a pale-faced,
-large-eyed boy of perhaps fifteen holding a
-crimson-stained handkerchief to his face. “Guess
-so,” said Toby. “Maybe he got bumped. Wonder
-if he knows how to stop it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Do you?” Arnold asked, pushing by to his seat.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, I know four or five ways. Guess I’ll ask
-him.”</p>
-
-<p>He left the others and walked back three seats
-to where the boy was hunched somewhat disconsolately
-beside an open window. He was a surprisingly
-unattractive chap, Toby thought, but maybe
-he couldn’t help that unwholesome white complexion.
-But he could help, Toby told himself a
-moment later, that very soiled collar he was wearing!</p>
-
-<p>“Nose-bleed?” asked Toby smilingly.</p>
-
-<p>The boy shook his head, looking up over the
-stained handkerchief with an expression of sullen
-suspicion in his staring brown eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“What’s the trouble then?” Toby took the vacant
-seat. “Let me have a look, won’t you?”</p>
-
-<p>After a second of hesitation the boy removed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"></a>[12]</span>
-the handkerchief, revealing a short but deep cut on
-his upper lip. It was bleeding profusely. Toby
-clucked sympathetically. “How’d you get it?” he
-asked.</p>
-
-<p>“I was getting a drink back there,” muttered the
-boy, “when the train stopped. It threw me against
-the arm of a seat, I guess. Anyway, first thing I
-knew I was on the floor.” His tone was resentful
-and his look seemed to hold Toby to blame for the
-accident.</p>
-
-<p>“Too bad,” said the latter kindly. “Got another
-handkerchief with you?” The boy shook his head.
-“I’ll lend you one, then. I’ll get it and wash the
-cut well. You step back to the water tank.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby returned to his seat and dragged his suitcase
-from the pile. “Fellow’s got a nasty cut on his
-lip,” he explained. “Fell down when the train
-slowed up and hit on something.”</p>
-
-<p>“What are you going to do?” inquired Frank.
-“Operate on him?”</p>
-
-<p>“Find a handkerchief for him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Who is he? One of our chaps?” asked Arnold.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know. He may be. Doesn’t look it.
-Get your enormous feet out of the way. I’ll be
-back in a sec.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13"></a>[13]</span></p>
-
-<p>“If you want any one to administer the
-ether——” suggested Frank.</p>
-
-<p>Toby laughed and joined his patient by the rear
-door. There he gave the wound a thorough washing,
-while the boy scowled and grunted. Then, seeing
-that the sides of the cut ought to be brought together,
-he left the other with a folded handkerchief
-pressed to the wound and made his way forward to
-the baggage car. When he returned he had a roll
-of surgeon’s tape and a wad of absorbent cotton.
-The boy protested in his sullen way against further
-repairs, but Toby overruled him. “You don’t want
-a nasty scar there,” he said cheerfully. “You hold
-this cotton there until I get the tape ready. That’s
-it. All right now. Hold steady, now. I’m not
-hurting you. There! Now we’ll roll this cotton in
-the handkerchief and you can stop the blood with
-it. I don’t think it will bleed much longer. Have
-you got far to go?”</p>
-
-<p>“Wissining,” muttered the boy.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, do you live in Wissining?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, I’m going to school there,” answered the
-other resentfully. “I thought maybe you were,
-too.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, yes, I am. You must be a new boy then.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"></a>[14]</span></p>
-
-<p>The other nodded. “I’ve never seen the rotten
-place,” he said.</p>
-
-<p>“Really?” asked Toby rather coldly. “Well, I
-hope you’ll like it better than you think.”</p>
-
-<p>The boy stared back in his sullen fashion.
-“Shan’t,” he muttered. Toby shrugged.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s up to you, I guess.” He nodded curtly
-and moved away, feeling relieved at the parting.
-But the boy stopped his steps.</p>
-
-<p>“Say, what’ll I do with this handkerchief?” he
-asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, throw it away, please,” said Toby.</p>
-
-<p>If he had done so this story might have been
-different.</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15"></a>[15]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II<br />
-<small>NEW QUARTERS</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">At eight o’clock that evening, having reached
-Wissining only a little more than an hour
-late and done full justice to supper, Toby
-and Arnold were busily unpacking and setting
-things to rights in Number 12 Whitson, which, as
-those who know Yardley Hall School will remember,
-is the granite dormitory building facing southward,
-flanked on the west by the equally venerable
-Oxford Hall and on the east by the more modern
-Clarke. There were those who liked the old-time
-atmosphere of Whitson; its wooden stairways, its
-low ceilings, its deep window embrasures and wide
-seats; who even forgave many a lack of convenience
-for the sake of the somewhat dingy home-likeness.
-Perhaps, too, they liked to feel themselves
-heirs to the legends and associations that
-clustered about the building. On the other hand,
-there were scoffers dwelling more luxuriously in
-Clarke or Dudley or Merle who declared that the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"></a>[16]</span>
-true reason for Whitson’s popularity was that the
-dining hall, known at Yardley as Commons, occupied
-the lower floor and that fellows living in
-the building consequently enjoyed an advantage
-over those dwelling in the other dormitories.</p>
-
-<p>Not all the Whitson rooms were desirable, however.
-On the third floor, for instance, was one that
-Toby, when he looked about the comparative
-grandeur of Number 12, remembered without regrets.
-He had passed last year under its sloping
-roof in an atmosphere of benzine and cooking. The
-benzine odor was due to the fact that he had conducted
-a fairly remunerative business in cleaning
-and pressing clothes, the smell of cooking to the
-fact that the room’s one window was directly above
-the basement kitchen. This year the atmosphere
-promised to be sweeter, for Number 12 was on the
-front of the building, away from the kitchen, and
-Toby had retired from business.</p>
-
-<p>There were moments when he viewed his retirement
-with alarm, for, although his father had assured
-him that sufficient money would be forthcoming
-to meet expenses if Toby managed carefully,
-he couldn’t quite forget that, should anything
-interrupt the prosperity of the boat-building
-business at home, there would be nothing to fall<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17"></a>[17]</span>
-back on. But Arnold had made the abandoning
-of the cleaning and pressing industry a condition
-of his invitation to a share of Number 12. “Homer’s
-not coming back, Toby,” he had announced in
-August. (Homer Wilkins had been Arnold’s
-roommate the preceding year.) “I wish you’d come
-down to Number 12 with me. It won’t cost you
-much more than that cell up in Poverty Row; and
-that’s an awful dive, anyway. Of course, you
-can’t go on with that beastly, smelly clothes-cleaning
-stunt, but you weren’t going to anyway, were
-you? I mean, since your father’s business has
-picked up so this spring and summer you won’t have
-to, eh?”</p>
-
-<p>Frankly, Toby had fully intended to. Being even
-partly self-supporting gives one a feeling of independence
-that one hates to lose. But Toby said
-nothing of that. He thought it over and, because
-he was very fond of Arnold, as Arnold was of him,
-and because Number 22 had been pretty bad at
-times, he yielded. This evening he was very glad
-that he had, as, pausing with a crumpled pair of
-trousers in his hand midway between his battered
-trunk and his closet, he viewed again the quiet
-comfort of the big square room. Wilkins had removed
-a few things, but they were not missed, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18"></a>[18]</span>
-Arnold’s folks were sending down another chair
-and a small bookcase from New York for Toby’s
-use. A fellow ought, he reflected, to be very
-happy in such a place; and he felt renewed gratitude
-to Arnold for choosing him to share its comforts.
-Arnold might easily have picked one of several
-fellows as a roommate without surprising
-Toby: Frank, for instance. Arnold had known
-Frank longer than he had known Toby. Reflecting
-in such fashion, Toby remained immovable so long
-that Arnold, who had for the moment abandoned
-more important business to put together a new
-loose-leaf notebook under the mellow glow of the
-droplight on the big table, looked across curiously.</p>
-
-<p>“What’s your difficulty, T. Tucker?” he asked.
-“Gone to sleep on your feet? Reaction, I suppose,
-after the near-trainwreck!”</p>
-
-<p>“I was just thinking,” answered Toby slowly,
-“that this is an awfully jolly room and that it was
-mighty good of you to let me come in with you.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, the room’s all right. (How in the dickens
-does this thing catch?) I like it a heap better than
-those mission-furnished rooms in Clarke. Of
-course, next year I suppose I’ll try for Dudley, with
-the rest of the First Class fellows, although I don’t
-know about that, either. Maybe I won’t. Maybe<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19"></a>[19]</span>
-I’ll stick here. It’s getting a whole lot like home,
-Toby. But as for its being good for me to have you
-with me here, why, that’s sort of funny, T. Tucker.
-Guess you’re not the only one that’s—er—that’s
-benefited, what? Rather like it myself, if you must
-know. Homer and I got on pretty well, all things
-considered, but that was mainly because he’s too
-lazy to quarrel with you about anything. Personally,
-Toby, I like a row now and then. It sort of—clears
-the atmosphere, so to speak. That’s why I
-thought of you. You’ve got such a perfectly beastly
-disposition and such a rotten temper that I can
-have a scrap whenever I feel the need of it. So, you
-see, it was pure selfishness, after all, old thing.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby smiled and went over to the closet with his
-burden. “We started with a scrap, anyway,” he
-said. “Remember it, Arn?”</p>
-
-<p>“Perfectly. I intimated that your hair was sort
-of reddish and you didn’t like it. So you came at
-me like a cyclone and we both went into the harbor.
-I remember it perfectly. It started because you
-wanted twenty-four cents a gallon for some gasoline.”</p>
-
-<p>“Twenty-two. You said you paid only twenty in
-New York.”</p>
-
-<p>“Anyway, I offered you less than you asked, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20"></a>[20]</span>
-you said you’d pump it out of the tank again,
-and——”</p>
-
-<p>“Good thing I didn’t have to try it,” laughed
-Toby. “That was only a little over a year ago,
-Arn! Why, it seems years!”</p>
-
-<p>“Much has happened since then, T. Tucker,” replied
-Arnold, tossing the notebook on the table.
-“Events have transpired. In the short space of—let
-me see; this is September—in the short space of
-fifteen months you were rescued from a living-death
-in the Johnstown High School and became a
-person of prominence at Yardley Hall!”</p>
-
-<p>“Prominent as a cleaner and presser of clothes,”
-laughed Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“Nay, nay, prominent as one swell hockey player,
-Toby, and also, if I mistake not, as a rescuer of
-drowning youths. Don’t forget you’re a hero, old
-thing. By the way, I wonder if young Lingard’s
-back. For your sake, I hope he isn’t. His gratitude
-to you for saving him from a watery death was a
-bit embarrassing to you, I thought!”</p>
-
-<p>Toby smiled ruefully. “You didn’t <em>think</em>, you
-<em>knew</em>,” he said grimly. Arnold laughed.</p>
-
-<p>“To see you slinking around a corner to evade
-the kid was killing, Toby! And he is such a little<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21"></a>[21]</span>
-rotter, too! While you were rescuing, why didn’t
-you pull out something a little more select?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, Tommy isn’t a bad sort really,” responded
-Toby earnestly. “He—he just didn’t get the right
-sort of bringing-up, I suppose.”</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe. Personally, I always feel like taking
-him over my knee and wearing out a shingle on
-him! Well, this won’t get our things unpacked.
-Let’s knock off after a bit and see who’s back.
-Funny none of the gang has been in. Wonder if
-Fan’s back. And Ted Halliday.”</p>
-
-<p>“I saw Fanning at supper,” said Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“We’ll run over to Dudley after awhile and look
-him up. You like him, don’t you, Toby?”</p>
-
-<p>“Fanning? Yes, but I don’t really know him as
-well as some of the other fellows. He’s football
-captain this year, isn’t he?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes.” Arnold nodded and then frowned.
-“Sometimes I wish we’d elected some one else:
-Ted, maybe, or Jim Rose.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why? I thought you liked Fanning a lot. And
-he was the whole thing last year in the Broadwood
-game, wasn’t he?”</p>
-
-<p>“I do like him. He’s a mighty fine chap. And
-he’s a whale of a player. Only, what sort of a captain
-will he make? He’s too easy, to my way of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22"></a>[22]</span>
-thinking. He’s likely to fall for a lot of fellows
-who can’t play much just because they’re friends
-of his. I don’t mean that he will intentionally show
-favoritism, but he’s too plaguy loyal to his friends,
-Toby. To tell the truth, I’m half inclined to stay
-out of it this fall—No, that isn’t so, either. What
-I do mean is that I’m scared that Fan may keep me
-on even if I don’t really make good. And I’d hate
-that worse than poison. I want to make the team,
-but I don’t want fellows to wink and laugh and look
-wise about me. You know the sort of stuff: ‘Oh,
-Deering, ye-es, he’s all right. But it’s lucky for him
-Fanning’s a friend of his!’ That sort of guff. Of
-course, this new coach, Lyle, may be a chap with a
-mind of his own and not stand for any of the
-friend-of-my-youth stuff. I hope so. I’d feel better
-anyway. By the way, you haven’t changed your
-mind, Toby?”</p>
-
-<p>“About football? No.”</p>
-
-<p>“I wish you would. Why don’t you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Lots of reasons,” answered Toby smilingly.
-“In the first place, I tried it last fall. In the
-sec——”</p>
-
-<p>“You call that trying? You just went out with
-a whole mob of fellows and loafed around until
-they got tired of walking on you. Besides, you<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23"></a>[23]</span>
-were out for the Second. The First’s a different
-proposition, son, especially now that you’ve made
-good in hockey. Every one knows that you’ll be
-hockey captain next year.”</p>
-
-<p>“It’s more than I know,” said Toby good-naturedly.
-“Anyhow——”</p>
-
-<p>“And you’re at least fifteen pounds heavier than
-a year ago. They said you were too light, didn’t
-they?”</p>
-
-<p>“They meant in the head,” replied the other
-gravely.</p>
-
-<p>“They were dead right, too! But, honest, old
-thing, joking aside——”</p>
-
-<p>“Arn, I haven’t got time for football and I can’t
-afford it.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s what you said about hockey last winter.
-And you were so pressed for time that you copped
-a Ripley Scholarship! As for ‘affording’ it, where’s
-the expense come in?”</p>
-
-<p>“Togs and things,” answered Toby. “And traveling
-expenses. Arn, if I went in for football and
-made the team—which I couldn’t do in a million
-years—I’d have to go back to sponging coats and
-pressing trousers, and that would make the room
-awfully smelly, and you wouldn’t like it a bit.”
-And Toby ended with a laugh.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24"></a>[24]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Piffle! All right, have your own stubborn way.
-You’ll miss a whole lot of fun, though.”</p>
-
-<p>“And a whole lot of bruises! Anyway, Arn, one
-football hero is enough in a family. I’ll stay at
-home and cut surgeon’s plaster for you and keep
-your crutches handy and hear your alibis.”</p>
-
-<p>“Idiot,” said Arnold. “Come on, dump that
-truck on the chair and let’s go over to Dudley. I
-want to hear some sensible conversation for a
-change.”</p>
-
-<p>“You don’t mean you’re going to keep quiet all
-evening, do you?” asked Toby with concern.</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25"></a>[25]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III<br />
-<small>SID OFFERS ADVICE</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">The school year began the next morning.
-Many new faces confronted Toby in the
-recitation rooms and some familiar ones
-were missing. Toby’s list of friends had not been a
-long one last year, although acquaintances had been
-many. It had been his first year at Yardley Hall,
-which fact, coupled with a fairly retiring disposition,
-had left him rather on the outside. It is
-always a handicap to enter school in a class below
-your friends, which is what Toby had done. Arnold
-and Frank, both a year older, had been in the
-Third, while Toby had gone into the Fourth. Consequently
-the fellows he had met through Arnold—Frank
-had not counted greatly as a friend last
-year—had few interests that were Toby’s. To be sure,
-in early spring, after he had made a success of
-hockey, things had been somewhat different. But
-even then he had remained a pretty insignificant
-person among the three hundred and odd that made<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26"></a>[26]</span>
-up the student body of Yardley Hall School. Not
-that Toby cared or thought much about it. He was
-too busy getting through the year without calling on
-his father for further financial assistance to pay
-much attention to the gentle art of acquiring
-friends.</p>
-
-<p>One friend, however, Toby had had, whether or
-no. That was Tommy Lingard, a Preparatory
-Class youngster, pink-cheeked, blue-eyed, shy and,
-in appearance, the soul of innocence. That he
-wasn’t as spotless as he looked has nothing to do
-with this story. Toby had saved Tommy from
-drowning, and thereafter the younger boy had attached
-himself to his benefactor like a shadow. It
-had been very embarrassing at times, for saving
-a person’s life does not necessarily imply that you
-want to spend the rest of your life in that person’s
-company! Toby didn’t like Tommy, for which
-there was a reason, but he couldn’t be brutal to him,
-and short of being brutal there had seemed no way
-of evading Tommy’s doglike devotion and his unwelcome
-companionship. It had become a joke to
-Arnold and a few others, but Toby found it far
-from that. When June had brought the end of the
-school year Toby couldn’t have told you whether he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27"></a>[27]</span>
-was more delighted at finishing an Honor Man in
-his class or at getting rid of Tommy Lingard!</p>
-
-<p>He had returned this fall with a grim determination
-to be rid of the boy at any cost short of murder,
-but to-day, glancing uneasily about as he passed
-from one recitation to another, he was not so sure
-of himself. Probably, he reflected discouragedly,
-when Tommy appeared and got those big blue eyes
-on him he wouldn’t find it in his heart to be unkind
-to the youngster, and the whole wretched, tiresome
-program would begin all over again. Therefore
-when, hurrying from his last morning recitation at
-twelve, he almost bumped into Tommy on the steps
-of Oxford, he was at once amazed and relieved
-when that youth said, “Hello, Toby,” in a most
-embarrassed voice and sidled past. At the foot of
-the steps Toby stopped and looked back. Could
-that be Tommy? Of course it was, but it was a
-very different Tommy. He had shot up during the
-summer like a weed. His clothes looked too small
-for him, too short of leg and sleeve. He was thinner
-of body and face, the pink-and-white complexion
-had muddied, the blue eyes were no longer luminous
-with truth and innocence and the voice had
-dropped several notes to a ridiculous bass! In
-short, Tommy had changed very suddenly from a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28"></a>[28]</span>
-blue-eyed cherub to a commonplace and awkward
-boy. And Toby was very, very glad, so glad that
-he went the rest of the way to Whitson whistling
-at the top of his voice; or should I say at the top
-of his whistle?</p>
-
-<p>“Just shows,” he reflected as he skipped up the
-stairs, “that it doesn’t pay to worry about anything
-that may happen, because maybe it won’t!”</p>
-
-<p>After a two o’clock séance with “Old Tige,” by
-which name Mr. Gaddis, English instructor, was
-popularly known, Toby went with Arnold down to
-the athletic field. September had still a week to
-run and the afternoon was almost uncomfortably
-hot. Across the river, the wide expanse of salt
-marsh was still green in places, and overhead the
-sky was unflecked by clouds. Fortunately a little
-westerly breeze mitigated the heat. Most of the tennis
-courts were occupied, a group of baseball enthusiasts
-were congregated over by the batting net
-and on the blue surface of the curving stream a few
-bright-hued canoes were moving slowly upstream
-or down. Toby found himself almost wishing that
-he had chosen a dip in the Sound instead of an hour
-or more of unexciting observation of some fourscore
-overheated youths going through football
-practice. However, the new grandstand, finished<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29"></a>[29]</span>
-during the summer, was roofed, and as soon as
-Arnold left him to his own devices Toby meant to
-climb up there into the shade and sprawl in comfort.
-On the way they passed new boys here and there—it
-was easy to detect them if only by their too evident
-desire to seem quite at home—and they agreed
-gravely, pessimistically that they were a rum looking
-lot, and wondered what the school was coming
-to! Old friends and acquaintances hailed them
-from a distance or stopped to chat. Arnold was
-rather a popular fellow and knew a bewildering
-multitude of his schoolmates.</p>
-
-<p>“Seems mighty nice to be back again,” Arnold
-observed after one such meeting. “Bet you we’re
-going to have a dandy time this year, T. Tucker.”</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe you will,” answered the other dubiously,
-“but I don’t expect to unless they drop Latin from
-the curriclumum—curric—well, whatever you call
-it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Call it the course, old thing,” laughed Arnold.
-“It’s easier on the tongue. But I thought you finished
-strong with Latin last year.”</p>
-
-<p>“I did pretty well in spring term, but it looks
-tougher this fall. And I’ve got Collins this year,
-and every one says he’s a heap stricter than Townsend.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30"></a>[30]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Well, he is, I suppose, but he’s a mighty good
-teacher. You get ahead faster with Collins, I think.
-Anyway, it won’t look so bad when you’ve got into
-it, Toby. Besides, I dare say I can help you a bit
-now and then.”</p>
-
-<p>“You,” jeered Toby with a very, very hollow
-laugh. “You’ll be so full of football for the next
-two months you won’t know I’m alive! A nice
-outlook for me, I don’t think! When I’m not bathing
-you with arsenic—or is it arnica?—or strapping
-your broken fragments together I’ll have to listen to
-you yapping about how it was you missed a tackle,
-or got your signals mixed. Arn, as a companion
-you’ll be just about as much use as a—a——”</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t overtax that giant intellect of yours, old
-thing. It’s too hot. Wonder where the crowd is.
-You don’t suppose those fellows are all that are
-going to report?”</p>
-
-<p>“It’s not three yet. Probably the rest of them
-preferred to stay sensibly in the shade while they
-had the chance. Wish I had! Arn, is that what’s-his-name
-over there?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, that’s thingumbob. Whom do you mean?”</p>
-
-<p>“The little man in the blue sweater-coat talking
-to Fanning. See him?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes. I guess it must be. Isn’t very big, is he?<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31"></a>[31]</span>
-Fan said last night, though, that he talked a heap
-of sense. I’m going over. Come along and meet
-him.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, thanks. I’ll wait here.”</p>
-
-<p>Arnold left him by the corner of the old grandstand
-and made his way toward where the new
-coach was in conversation with Captain Fanning.
-Toby saw Fanning introduce Arnold to Mr. Lyle
-and saw the two shake hands. Then something
-broad and heavy smote him disconcertingly between
-his shoulders and he swung around to find Sid
-Creel’s grinning, moon-like countenance before him.</p>
-
-<p>“Hello, Toby!” greeted Sid, reaching for his
-hand. “I had a beastly fright. Just when I was
-lamming you I thought maybe it wasn’t you after
-all. You’ve sort of thickened up since last year.
-Rather embarrassing to find you’ve whacked a total
-stranger on the back, eh? Much obliged to you for
-being you, Toby. I’ll never forget it. What sort
-of a summer did you have? You’re looking hard
-as nails and more beautiful than ever!”</p>
-
-<p>“Same to you, Sid. Are you going out for football?”
-Toby glanced at the other’s togs.</p>
-
-<p>“No,” replied Sid gravely. “I’m going to tea at
-the Doctor’s.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” laughed Toby, “that was sort of a fool<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32"></a>[32]</span>
-question, but I didn’t know you were a football
-shark.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m not; I’m just a minnow. I’m trying for the
-Second. I always do. I’ve been trying for the Second
-Team for years and years. If I’m not here
-they postpone until next day. I should think you’d
-go in for the game, Toby. Ever tried it?”</p>
-
-<p>“A little. I was out for the Second last fall, but
-I didn’t stay long.”</p>
-
-<p>“That so? I don’t remember seeing you.”</p>
-
-<p>“Funny, Sid; there were only about eighty of us
-the first day!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I didn’t know you then, Toby. Why
-don’t you try again? Didn’t you like it?”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know. Guess I didn’t have time to find
-out whether I did or didn’t. They said I was too
-light and fired me after three or four days.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, you certainly have enough weight now.
-Come on and join the goats. It’s lots of fun. You
-get action, son, and it lets you out of gymnasium
-work while you’re at it. That’s something! Come
-on!”</p>
-
-<p>Toby smiled and shook his head. “Guess not,
-thanks. I never would make a football player.”</p>
-
-<p>“You? You’re just the kind, Toby. You’re
-quick and you’ve got a good head, and you’re built<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33"></a>[33]</span>
-right, too. Wish I had your build. Only thing I’m
-good for is center or, maybe, guard. I’m too bulky.
-It isn’t all fat, though, believe thou me. Feel them
-here biceps, son, if you doubt my word.”</p>
-
-<p>“I kind of envied you your fat—I mean your
-muscular bulk, Sid—last winter,” answered Toby.
-“You could fall flat on the ice without hurting
-yourself. You just kind of bounced up and down
-a few times and didn’t mind it. When I fell I
-felt it!”</p>
-
-<p>“Never mind about me bouncing,” said Sid good-naturedly,
-with a grin. “I got around the ice a
-heap faster than some of the chaps at that. But
-about football, Toby——”</p>
-
-<p>“I haven’t got time for it, Sid; that’s another
-thing. I’ve got to put my nose to the grindstone, I
-guess, this year.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, haven’t I? Rather! But football won’t
-cut in on studying—much. Anyway, a fellow studies
-better for being out-of-doors and getting plenty
-of exercise and——”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, but I can be outdoors without playing football,
-Sid.”</p>
-
-<p>“Gee, you’re the original little Excuse-Me! Well
-so be it. After all, some one’s got to stay out of it
-and be audience, and from the looks of things right<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34"></a>[34]</span>
-now, Toby, you’re the only fellow left to sit in the
-grandstand and cheer us on to victory. Look at the
-gang coming down! There’s a fellow I want to
-see. So long! Better change your mind, though!”</p>
-
-<p>Arnold came back for a minute and then left
-in answer to the plaintive squawking of a horn from
-farther along the side of the field. Fully eighty
-youths of assorted ages and sizes gathered about
-the new coach and the hubbub was stilled as the
-small man in the blue knitted jacket began to speak.
-Toby could hear an occasional word, but not
-enough to make sense, and, since it was no concern
-of his, he turned toward the grandstand and
-climbed up into the grateful shade. Forty or fifty
-others had already scattered themselves about the
-seats in couples or groups, most of them munching
-peanuts or popcorn bars, ready to be amused if
-amusement required no exertion on their parts. A
-lazy way to spend a perfectly good afternoon, reflected
-Toby. He wished he hadn’t let Arnold persuade
-him to come, but, being here, he lacked
-energy for the hot uphill walk back to the dormitory.
-He would stay awhile, he told himself; at
-least until the afternoon had cooled a little.</p>
-
-<p>There was a salvo of polite handclapping from
-the group within sound of the coach’s voice and it<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35"></a>[35]</span>
-broke up. Andy Ryan, the trainer, emptied a canvas
-bag of trickling footballs and they were
-pounced on and borne away to various parts of the
-field. The big group became half a dozen smaller
-ones. It was only “kindergarten stuff” to-day, even
-for the veterans; passing and falling and starting;
-not very interesting from the viewpoint of candidate
-or audience. Toby located Arnold working
-with a squad under big Jim Rose. Arn was, as
-Toby knew, pretty soft after a fairly lazy summer,
-and the boy in the shade of the big stand smiled unfeelingly
-as he saw his chum straighten himself
-slowly in deference to protesting muscles.</p>
-
-<p>“He will be good and sore to-night,” thought
-Toby. “Sailing a boat all summer doesn’t keep a
-football man in very good trim, I guess!”</p>
-
-<p>After that he lost interest in the scene before him,
-and, his somewhat battered straw hat on one knee
-and the lazy breeze drying his damp hair, let his
-thoughts carry him back to Greenhaven and the
-folks in the little white cottage on Harbor Road. It
-would be very pleasant there to-day on the vine-shaded
-steps, with the harbor and the white sails
-before him and the cheery <em>click-clock</em> of the caulking
-iron and mallet and the busy <em>pip-pup, pip-pup</em> of
-the gasoline engine sounding across from the boat<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36"></a>[36]</span>
-yard. Better still, though, would it be to lie in the
-stern of a boat, main-sheet in hand, and slip merrily
-out past the island to where, even to-day, the white-caps
-would be dancing on the sunlit surface of the
-bay. He was getting the least bit homesick when
-the sound of approaching steps brought his wandering
-thoughts back. Climbing the aisle was a
-somewhat thin, carelessly dressed youth. His head
-was bent and so Toby couldn’t see his face well, but
-there was something dimly familiar about the figure.
-Toby wondered why, with several hundred empty
-seats to choose from, the boy, whoever he was, had
-to come stamping up here. He sighed and changed
-his position and was relapsing into his thoughts
-again when he saw to his annoyance that the approaching
-youth had stopped at the end of his row,
-two seats distant. Toby’s gaze lifted curiously to
-the boy’s face. Perhaps it was more the two strips
-of rather soiled surgeon’s plaster adorning the
-chap’s upper lip than the features that led Toby to
-recognize him. Mentally, Toby groaned. Aloud,
-trying to make his voice sound decently friendly,
-he said: “Hello! Well, how’s it going?”</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37"></a>[37]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV<br />
-<small>G. W. TUBB</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">“Hello,” answered the other gruffly.</p>
-
-<p>To Toby’s further annoyance he slid
-into the end seat, as he did so producing
-a folded but rather crumpled handkerchief from a
-pocket. This he held across to Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“’Tain’t very clean,” he said, “but it’s the best
-I could do.”</p>
-
-<p>“What is it?” asked Toby, accepting it doubtfully.
-“Oh, I see; my handkerchief. You needn’t
-have bothered. I told you to throw it away. Still,
-much obliged.” It had quite evidently been washed
-by the boy himself and ironed by the simple expedient
-of laying it while wet on some smooth surface,
-perhaps a windowpane. Faint brownish stains had
-defied the efforts of the amateur laundryman.
-Toby dropped it into a pocket, aware of the close
-and apparently hostile stare of the other. “Much
-obliged,” he repeated vaguely, for want of anything
-better to say.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38"></a>[38]</span></p>
-
-<p>“’At’s all right,” answered the other. “Too
-good a handkerchief to throw away.” An awkward
-silence followed. Toby wished the youth
-would take himself off, but that idea was apparently
-far from the latter’s mind. Instead, he thrust
-his hands into the pockets of his trousers, stretched
-his thin legs before him and scowled down at the
-busy scene. He looked to be about fifteen, Toby
-thought. His features were not bad in themselves,
-but his expression was sullen and dissatisfied and
-his complexion was too much the color of putty to
-be pleasant to look at. Also, his skin didn’t seem
-clean and healthy. The same was true of the youth
-as a whole. Toby thought a thorough application
-of hot water and soap would improve him a whole
-lot, at least externally. His clothes were of good
-enough material and fairly new. But they were
-full of creases and needed brushing. His shoes
-were scratched at the toes and would have been better
-for dressing and polishing. His collar was
-cleaner than yesterday, but creased and rumpled,
-and the blue four-in-hand scarf needed tightening.
-On the whole, this chap was not a prepossessing
-member of Yardley Hall society, and Toby had
-no desire to increase the acquaintance. But so
-long as he was here some sort of conversation<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39"></a>[39]</span>
-seemed in order, and so, breaking the silence:</p>
-
-<p>“How’s the cut getting on?” Toby asked.</p>
-
-<p>“All right,” the other answered without turning
-his head. Then: “Say,” he challenged.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes?”</p>
-
-<p>“Your name’s Tucker, ain’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes. What’s yours, by the way?” Toby was
-sorry he had asked as soon as the question was out.</p>
-
-<p>“Tubb,” was the answer, “George Tubb.” There
-was a pause. Then, defiantly: “Middle name’s
-William. Go on and say it!”</p>
-
-<p>“Say it? Why, George William Tubb,” responded
-Toby obligingly.</p>
-
-<p>The other turned and viewed him suspiciously.
-Then he grunted. “Guess you don’t get it,” he muttered.
-“George W. Tubb, see?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,”
-answered Toby indifferently.</p>
-
-<p>“You would if you saw it written,” said Mr.
-Tubb gloomily. “Everybody does.” He pitched his
-voice to a falsetto. “‘What’s the W. stand for?
-Wash?’ Gee, I’m sick of it. I tried to tell the guy
-in the office where you get registered that my middle
-name was Harris, but he said it couldn’t be that
-and begin with W. It’ll be W. in the catalogue, so
-you might as well know it now. Well, I’ve been<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40"></a>[40]</span>
-‘Wash-tub’ ever since I was a foot high, so I guess
-it don’t matter here!”</p>
-
-<p>“What’s the difference?” asked Toby. “One
-nickname’s as good as another, isn’t it? Names
-don’t matter.”</p>
-
-<p>“Some don’t. I suppose they call you ‘Red’ or
-‘Carrot’ or something like that. I wouldn’t
-mind——”</p>
-
-<p>“Hold on, Tubb!” Toby’s voice dropped a note.
-“No one calls me what you said. Some fellows
-have tried to, but they changed their minds. Understand?”</p>
-
-<p>Tubb grinned. “Don’t like it, eh? Thought you
-said names didn’t matter! Well, I don’t like my
-nickname any more than you like yours; I mean
-what fellows started to call you.” The grin faded
-and Tubb’s countenance became overcast again with
-the settled expression of sullenness. “Anyway,
-what they call me here doesn’t cut any ice. I won’t
-be here long.”</p>
-
-<p>“How’s that?” asked Toby, trying to make his
-question sound politely interested.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m going to beat it. This ain’t any kind of a
-school for me, Tucker. Gee, what would I do here?
-Look at the gang of highbrows and mamma’s darlings!
-They’d stand for me about two days. I know<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41"></a>[41]</span>
-the sort. Some of ’em come to our town in summer.
-Think they ever have anything to do with us
-town guys? Not on your life! We’re too common
-for ’em, the dear little Willie Boys!”</p>
-
-<p>“Why did you come here then?” asked Toby
-coldly.</p>
-
-<p>“It was Pop’s idea,” replied Tubb. “Aunt Sarah
-died last spring out in Michigan and she left Pop
-some money. The will said some of it was to go
-for my schooling. I wanted to go to Huckins’s, in
-Logansport. Know it? It’s an all-right school and
-two or three fellows from my town go there. It
-don’t cost much, either. But Pop was set on this
-dive. About ten years ago Pop was in partnership
-with a man named Mullins in the logging business,
-and this Mullins had a boy who went to school here.
-Pop thought a lot of the Mullinses, and when he
-learned about Aunt Sarah’s will he said right off I
-was to go here. He got the high school principal
-to coach me all summer. I kept telling him I
-wouldn’t like it here, kept telling him it wasn’t any
-place for a storekeeper’s son, but he wouldn’t listen.
-He said he’d lick the hide off me if I didn’t pass the
-examinations, and I knew he would. So I passed.
-He’ll lick me if I go back home, too, so I’ve got to
-go and get me a job somewhere. Guess I’ll enlist in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42"></a>[42]</span>
-the Navy. I’ll tell ’em I’m seventeen. They don’t
-care. I know a fellow got in when he was a couple
-of months younger than I am.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby viewed Tubb distastefully during a brief
-silence. Then: “Seems to me,” he said slowly and
-emphatically, “the Navy is just the place for you,
-Tubb!”</p>
-
-<p>“Sure,” began the other. Then something in
-Toby’s tone made him pause and view the other suspiciously.
-“What do you mean by that?” he demanded.</p>
-
-<p>“Just what I said. What you need is discipline,
-Tubb, and a whole lot of it, and you’ll get it in the
-Navy. And I wish them joy of you!” Toby arose
-and crowded past to the aisle.</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, go to thunder!” snarled Tubb. “You’re like
-all the rest of them, ain’t you? Silk-sox! Who
-cares what you think? Say, I hope you ain’t caught
-anything, sitting alongside me like that!”</p>
-
-<p>There was more, but Toby didn’t hear it. Going
-down the aisle he was uncomfortably conscious of
-the curious looks bent on him by the occupants of
-the nearer seats who had been aroused from their
-sleepy occupation of following the practice by
-Tubb’s strident voice. He was glad when he had
-reached the ground and turned the corner of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43"></a>[43]</span>
-stand. Passing between the busy tennis courts, he
-reflected that befriending strangers didn’t work out
-very satisfactorily for him. After this, he decided,
-smiling whimsically, fellows might drown or be cut
-to pieces for all the help he would offer!</p>
-
-<p>Just before supper, when Arnold came back to
-Number 12, a trifle washed-out looking and not
-moving very spryly, Toby narrated the outcome of
-the incident in the train. By this time he was able
-to tell of the meeting with George W. Tubb with a
-touch of humor and Arnold listened amusedly,
-stretched at length on the window-seat.</p>
-
-<p>“You’re right, Toby, the Navy’s just the place
-for friend Tubbs.”</p>
-
-<p>“Tubb,” corrected Toby. “There’s only one of
-him, praise be!”</p>
-
-<p>“We’re getting some strange freaks here of late,
-anyway,” reflected Arnold. “There were several on
-the field this afternoon. Well, it takes all sorts to
-make a world—or a football team! Say, T. Tucker,
-the new coach is a peach. Fan’s crazy about him,
-and so are the others. Did you hear the song-and-dance
-he gave us before practice? Some sane and
-sensible little speech, that was.”</p>
-
-<p>“What did he say?” asked Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“We-ell,” Arnold hesitated, “I don’t know that he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44"></a>[44]</span>
-said anything much different from what all coaches
-say at the start of the season. It was more the way
-he said it, I guess. Of course he insisted rather
-painfully on hard work, and told us what a fine,
-intelligent-looking lot we were.”</p>
-
-<p>“Must be nearsighted,” murmured Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“And said something nice about Fan. Oh, it was
-much the usual speech, only—well, it did sound different,
-somehow. One thing he did say, though, T.
-Tucker, may interest you.”</p>
-
-<p>“You may proceed, Mr. Deering.”</p>
-
-<p>“He said he wanted every fellow in school who
-had the possible making of a football player in him
-to report not later than Monday, and that if they
-didn’t volunteer he’d draft them! That ought to
-give you something to think about, old thing.”</p>
-
-<p>“Meaning that I have somewhere concealed about
-me the making of a football player?” asked Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“Exactly. You’d better keep out of Lyle’s way
-or he will grab you.”</p>
-
-<p>After a moment Toby, who had armed himself
-with towel and soap-dish preparatory to a trip to
-the lavatory, moved to the door but paused with his
-hand on the knob. “He can’t draft me, Arn,” he
-said.</p>
-
-<p>“Why can’t he, I’d like to know?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45"></a>[45]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Because I’m going out for the Second to-morrow.”</p>
-
-<p>“<em>What!</em> Honest? When—How——”</p>
-
-<p>But Toby had closed the door behind him.</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46"></a>[46]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V<br />
-<small>WITH THE SECOND</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">Of recent years the custom of having
-separate organizations for the First
-and Second Teams from the very outset
-of the season had obtained at Yardley. In the
-old days the Second was made up, perhaps a
-fortnight after the school year had started,
-of players who were not needed on the First and
-those who, for one reason or another, were ineligible
-for it. As a result, the Second as an adversary
-for the First, or School, Team, never amounted to
-much until the season was half gone. Under the
-new system the Second came into being two or three
-days after the start of the fall term, with a coaching
-staff, small but sufficient, of its own, a captain
-elected the preceding year and a general organization
-similar to that of the First save as to size. The
-coach was inevitably some enthusiastic and patriotic
-fellow who had recently graduated and who
-gave his services free. At times—whenever possible,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47"></a>[47]</span>
-in fact—he summoned other graduates to his
-assistance. If he was a wise coach, he never had
-more than one assistant at a time. If he was unwise,
-he had—and chaos reigned.</p>
-
-<p>This year the coach was Mr. Burtis. Burtis had,
-in his time, been a remarkable half-back and an
-equally remarkable kicker, both in preparatory
-school and college. He had left college last spring
-and was, consequently, but twenty-one or twenty-two
-years of age. Because Yardley Hall history
-accorded him much fame as a player and leader, a
-great deal was expected of him. Toby’s first look
-at Kendall Burtis produced more surprise than anything
-else. He found himself wondering how any
-man could be as utterly homely as the coach and yet
-look as attractive, how any one could have so many
-angles in his body and yet be so free from awkwardness!
-Burtis was rather large, ruggedly built, square
-of frame. His mouth was broad, his nose somewhat
-pug, his hair nondescript in hue. Yet in spite of
-these things the face was pleasing and attractive.
-Perhaps the very dark gray eyes, clear and steady
-and honest, were accountable. Or it may be that
-the mouth expressed kindliness. At all events, after
-that first instant of surprise and confusion, Toby
-liked the new coach immensely. Whether the new<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48"></a>[48]</span>
-coach liked Toby I can’t say. It is quite probable
-that he didn’t see him, for Toby was only one of
-some forty-eight fellows drawn up in a group on
-the edge of the second diamond that Saturday afternoon.</p>
-
-<p>Toby wondered what words of wisdom would
-fall from that generously-proportioned mouth, and
-he craned his head over Sid Creel’s shoulder that he
-might hear them all. What he did hear and see
-were hardly worth the exertion. Coach Burtis, a
-new football snuggled in his left elbow and his right
-hand thrust into a pocket of an old pair of gray
-trousers, looked pleasantly over the little throng for
-a moment. Then: “Well,” he said genially. “It
-looks like we had material for a good team here.
-Let’s get busy!”</p>
-
-<p>That was all. Toby felt a trifle neglected and disappointed.
-But he had to acknowledge that perhaps
-getting busy was as important as listening to
-a speech. After that, for more than an hour and
-a half, he had very little opportunity for feeling
-neglected. There were moments when he wished he
-might. Coach and captain were both believers in
-hard work, and both buckled down resolutely to the
-task ahead of them. More than half the material
-was inexperienced, much of what remained was useless,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49"></a>[49]</span>
-and only some twelve or fourteen candidates
-combined experience with ability. To-day’s work
-was the veriest drudgery, and, although occasional
-halts were called, yet the September sun did unkind
-things to many. Toby, rather to his surprise, discovered
-that he was not nearly so hard and fit as
-he had thought. After ten minutes of passing and
-falling, he perspired from every pore, and ere the
-afternoon’s practice was finished, he felt very much
-like a wet rag. Also, he had somehow managed
-to develop a painful crick in his left shoulder, close
-to his neck. And the muscles in the backs of his
-legs felt as if some one had pounded them with a
-board. On the whole, he was far less enthusiastic
-than he had been at three o’clock, and even the
-shower failed of much reaction. Dragging a tired
-body from the gymnasium across the yard to Whitson,
-he wondered by just what mental process he
-had the day before arrived at the decision to play
-football!</p>
-
-<p>As a matter of fact, there had been, so far as he
-could recall, no mental process at all. Arnold had
-threatened him with the First Team draft and almost
-without reflection he had announced that he
-was going out for the Second! Ten minutes before,
-or even three, he had had no more idea of a football<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50"></a>[50]</span>
-career than he had had of jumping from the
-window. Well, reflected Toby ruefully, it just
-showed that you couldn’t be too careful of impulses!</p>
-
-<p>He supposed that Sid Creel was mainly responsible
-for these aching muscles. He had resolutely
-refused to be persuaded by Sid’s arguments, and
-yet, apparently, he had been! Or else he had done
-it just to surprise Arnold. Maybe that was it. If it
-was, it was a mighty poor reason! Any amount of
-surprise on the part of Arnold wasn’t worth the
-soreness of those leg muscles! He groaned as he
-started up the stairs, but nearing the door of Number
-12, he assumed a carefree and nonchalant air
-designed to deceive Arnold in case that youth was
-within.</p>
-
-<p>He wasn’t, though, and Toby was thankful. It
-gave him a chance to lie down on the window seat,
-groaning as much as he pleased while doing it, without
-arousing curiosity. He dropped his cap—he
-had put by the straw hat—on the nearest object and
-divested himself of an unnecessary coat. It was
-while he was getting rid of the latter article of apparel
-that his eyes fell on an envelope propped
-against the base of the droplight on his side of the
-table. It bore his name in funny up-and-down<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51"></a>[51]</span>
-characters, like the writing of a boy of ten, and the
-postmark showed that it was mailed in Wissining
-that morning. Of course, it might be only an invitation
-to deal at one of the few local stores, but
-there was evidence against that premise; such as the
-lack of any address in the corner, the queer writing
-and a brownish smudge along the flap suggesting
-that unclean hands had sealed the envelope. He
-bore it to the window seat, settled himself cautiously
-against the pile of cushions, stretched his aching
-legs out and tore open the letter. A single sheet of
-blue-ruled paper emerged. Toby read it frowningly.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>Dear Tucker: I’m sorry for what I said this afternoon.
-I didn’t mean it because you are the only fellow
-at this place who has been decent towards me
-since I came here. I got mad and I wish I hadn’t and
-I’m sorry. I wish you’d forgive me, please, Tucker. I
-guess what you said was true about the Navy, I mean,
-and maybe I’ll do like I said. Every one here shows
-plain that I am not wanted at this school and I guess
-the sooner I beat it the better. If more fellows were
-like you maybe I could stick it out. I am not afraid
-of the studies. It is not that, but the fellows here are
-not my kind I suppose. You are not either, but you
-acted like you did not think much about that. I am
-just writing this because you were decent to me in
-the train that day, more than any other fellow has<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52"></a>[52]</span>
-been, and I do not want you to think I am no good at
-all, with no gratitude. If I do not see you again,
-good-by and good luck, from Yours Truly, Geo. W.
-Tubb.</p></div>
-
-<p>Toward the end of the queer epistle Toby’s frown
-disappeared, and when he had read it once he read
-it again. After that he laid it down and looked out
-over the woods below the railroad cut, at the foot
-of the Prospect, and so to the blue expanse of Long
-Island Sound. A sail boat dipped slowly along the
-shore and afar out a cocky tug was leading a draggled
-parade of three coal barges. Presently the
-frown crept back again, and he lifted the letter,
-folded it and put it back in its envelope.</p>
-
-<p>“Suppose I ought to answer it,” he thought,
-“only, what can I say? Tell him I don’t mind what
-he said, I suppose, although it happens that I do
-mind. At least, I ought to. He’s a very objectionable,
-soggy-minded, unclean fellow, and I don’t
-want any more to do with him. Still, that doesn’t
-say that he isn’t having a horribly messy time here.
-Of course fellows don’t take to him. He looks dirty
-and bad-tempered and he talks worse than he looks.
-He doesn’t belong here. Seems to realize it, too.
-Shows he has some sense, doesn’t it? Well, I didn’t
-say he didn’t have sense. Trouble with him is he’s<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53"></a>[53]</span>
-been left to do as he likes too much, I guess. Bet
-you I know that father of his. Severe as anything
-when things go wrong, and the rest of the time
-doesn’t pay any attention to the kid. He didn’t say
-anything about a mother or brothers or sisters.
-Probably there’s just the two of them in one of
-those mean little towns where nothing ever happens
-that’s worth while. Bet you there isn’t even a movie
-theater there! Dad puts out the lamp at nine
-o’clock and goes to bed and the kid has to go, too,
-and the only way he can have any excitement is to
-sneak down the rain-spout and get into mischief!
-Oh, well, it’s no affair of mine. Still, I am sort of
-sorry for Tubb. ‘Washtub.’ Beastly nickname!
-Wonder who his adviser is. Probably hasn’t been
-near him, and would only growl and be ugly if he
-went. Best thing can happen to George W. Tubb is
-to seek pastures new.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby yawned and closed his eyes. The faint
-breath of cool evening air that blew in through the
-open window beside him made him feel very sleepy.
-He would write a couple of lines to Tibb—no, Tubb—after
-supper. Tell him it’s all right, and——</p>
-
-<p>Toby fell asleep.</p>
-
-<p>Ten minutes later he dreamed that he was falling
-down innumerable flights of stairs, bounding from<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54"></a>[54]</span>
-one to another with ever increasing momentum. He
-didn’t seem concerned about the process of falling,
-but he knew that when he reached the bottom, if he
-ever did, there would be an awful smash! In case
-there shouldn’t be enough left of him to groan then,
-maybe he had better do it now. So he did, quite
-frightfully. And opened his eyes to find Arnold
-and Frank tugging at him and laughing.</p>
-
-<p>“Wake up, Toby! It isn’t true!”</p>
-
-<p>“N-no,” agreed Toby doubtfully. “But—I’m
-glad you stopped me before I got to the bottom!”</p>
-
-<p>“Nightmare?” asked Frank. “I have it sometimes.
-Get a move on. We’re going to get supper
-early and beat it over to Greenburg for the first
-house at the movies.”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t see any use in my spending good money
-to see movies,” demurred Toby, sitting up sleepily,
-“when all I’ve got to do is go to sleep and have
-movies of my own!”</p>
-
-<p>Arnold grinned. “How did practice go?” he
-asked significantly.</p>
-
-<p>“Fine.” Toby was quite cheerful and nonchalant.
-“Made me sleepy, though, I guess.”</p>
-
-<p>“Hope you’re not tired or lame or anything like
-that? You had such a lot of fun ragging me yesterday,
-you know. Too bad if <em>you</em>—er——”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55"></a>[55]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Me? Oh, well, it was pretty warm, of course,
-but when you’re in good hard condition——”</p>
-
-<p>“What’s the matter?” asked Arnold, grinning.</p>
-
-<p>“Matter? Why?”</p>
-
-<p>“I thought you made a face when you stood up.
-My mistake, of course!”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know what you’re getting at,” declared
-Toby with great dignity. “If you think that a little
-football practice—<em>ouch! Gee!</em>” He sat down
-again on the window seat and rubbed his back ruefully,
-while the others laughed with wicked glee.</p>
-
-<p>“It won’t do, old thing! There’s no use stalling.
-You’re as bad as I was yesterday, when you had the
-beautiful cheek to sit there and read me a lecture on
-not keeping fit! Where does it hurt worst?”</p>
-
-<p>“All over,” groaned Toby. “I’ll be all right after
-I move around a while, though. That’s one advantage
-of being in fine physical condition: you may
-get a bit lame but you get right over it!”</p>
-
-<p>“Isn’t he the wonderful bluffer?” asked Arnold
-admiringly to Frank. “Well, go ahead and move
-around, old thing. It’s five minutes of, and we
-want to get over there before seven.”</p>
-
-<p>“Tell me one thing first,” begged Toby, squirming
-about from his waist up. “Do they have cushions
-on the seats at the movie house?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56"></a>[56]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes, and they’ll give you a couple of pillows
-at the ticket office if you ask for ’em,” answered
-Frank. “Hustle now!”</p>
-
-<p>“What you tell me sounds perfectly beautiful,”
-said Toby sadly, “but I’m afraid it isn’t true.”</p>
-
-<p>Thereupon Arnold thrust towel and soap into his
-hands, Frank held the door open and between them
-they pushed him, groaning and remonstrating, into
-the corridor and headed him toward the lavatory.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s really an awful joke on him,” chuckled
-Arnold as Toby’s lagging footsteps receded down
-the hall. “He thought he was as hard as nails, and
-had a fine time crowing over me yesterday. Said
-it took more than sailing a boat to keep a fellow in
-shape!”</p>
-
-<p>“I guess the only way to keep fit enough for football,”
-said Frank, feelingly, “is to chop trees all
-summer. I was just about all in last night. How
-did you manage to persuade him to take up football,
-anyway, Arn? I thought he was dead set
-against it.”</p>
-
-<p>“So did I. <em>I</em> didn’t persuade him. I don’t know
-who did—or what! He sprung it on me suddenly
-yesterday. I’m glad, though. I think there’s a good
-football player in Toby, Frank.”</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57"></a>[57]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI<br />
-<small>SIGNALS</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">Although Toby was back in Whitson before
-nine that evening, it is needless to say
-that the note he had promised himself to
-write to George Tubb did not get written. In fact
-Toby forgot all about it until the next morning,
-when Arnold found Tubb’s letter on the floor and
-asked Toby if it was anything he wanted to keep.</p>
-
-<p>“No, throw it in the basket,” answered Toby.
-“Hold on, though! Guess I’ll keep it. I’ve got to
-answer it to-day. Stick it on the table, Arn.”</p>
-
-<p>Later it got buried under a book and so during
-the course of a busy day or two Toby again forgot
-it. He might have remembered it on Sunday,
-which, as at every preparatory school in the land,
-was the recognized letter-writing day of the week
-at Yardley, but he didn’t. He wrote to his folks in
-the afternoon until Arn, who never spent much time
-on his correspondence, dragged him away to the
-river and a certain shining blue canoe. Then he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58"></a>[58]</span>
-finished the epistle in the evening just before bedtime,
-and retired with a fine feeling of duty performed.
-Monday witnessed a change in temperature.
-There was a light frost on the ground when
-Toby and Arnold hurried over to chapel, and, although
-the middle of the day was bright and warm,
-by the time practice began on the gridirons there
-was enough nip in the air to make work with the
-pigskin more agreeable.</p>
-
-<p>Toby found himself on a squad of fellows of
-much his own age and football experience—or lack
-of it. It didn’t seem to him that he showed much
-promise of ever being better than a dub at the
-game, and while he did rather enjoy the work, he
-was not vastly concerned over the prospect of being
-dropped. He had been dropped very promptly last
-fall, and he expected a similar fate this season. Of
-course, he was heavier now than then, but he
-guessed football required something more than
-weight of a fellow. Sid Creel was playing center on
-another squad in signal drill that Monday afternoon,
-so far as Toby could discern, conducting himself
-in a highly meritorious fashion. Sid had
-weight and, apparently, ability, and Toby decided
-that this year his good-natured perseverance was to
-be rewarded.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59"></a>[59]</span></p>
-
-<p>After three quarters of an hour of “baby-play”
-the Second Team candidates were summoned to the
-bench and Coach Burtis announced the first scrimmage.
-“Who have we for center on B Team, Harris?”
-he asked the trainer.</p>
-
-<p>“Center? Well, there’s Galvin and that tow-headed
-chap over there, Coach. And Creel. Creel’s
-got the build, all right. Want to try him?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes. And Burnett and Hodgson for guards.
-And—what’s your name, you chap?”</p>
-
-<p>“Thorson, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, Thorson, you take left tackle on B. I
-want another tackle now. Who wants to play
-tackle? All right, I’ll take you: the fellow in the
-green sweater. Now, a couple of ends, Harris.
-Yes, they’ll do. Burns at quarter. Come on,
-Burns! And Folwell and——”</p>
-
-<p>“Nelson’s played half, Mr. Burtis,” suggested
-Grover Beech.</p>
-
-<p>“I want him on A Team. Who else is there?
-Fosdick? All right. And that fellow down there,
-whatever his name is, for full-back. All right, get
-out there, fellows! You referee, Harris, please.
-I’ll be ump. I want all the rest of you chaps to follow
-the play closely and learn all you can. We’ll
-play two ten-minute periods, Harris. Team A<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60"></a>[60]</span>
-takes the ball and north goal. Now then, let’s see
-what you fellows know about the game!”</p>
-
-<p>At first it didn’t seem that they knew very much,
-for signals went wrong, fumble followed fumble
-and the players became occasionally so inextricably
-mixed up that scrimmage had to be halted while
-they were disentangled. But Coach Burtis, alternately
-umpire and critic, was possessed of a vast
-patience, and toward the last of the first ten minutes
-things went better. Team A worked down to
-the opponent’s twelve yards and would have scored
-if the line had held. But a B Team tackle trickled
-through and laid White on his back before he was
-well started on a wide run, and after that Frick,
-quarter-back on the attacking side, missed a try-at-goal
-by many yards.</p>
-
-<p>A five-minute rest followed, during which the
-coach and the trainer and Grover Beech lectured and
-criticized, and then, with many changes in each
-line-up, the scrimmage began again. Toby still decorated
-a bench, looking rather colorful with his red
-thatch obtruding from a blue blanket. Toby had
-dutifully watched the efforts of the players, but it
-cannot be truthfully said that he learned much.
-Perhaps he was too attentive to the performance
-and fortunes of Sid Creel at center on Team B.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61"></a>[61]</span>
-Sid appeared to be playing his position rather well,
-Toby thought, although he didn’t pretend to be anything
-of a judge. At least, Sid lasted longer than
-most fellows of his team, returning breathless to the
-bench only when the last period was more than half
-over. He squirmed into a place beside Toby, pulling
-a blanket about his broad shoulders.</p>
-
-<p>“I guess he didn’t have much on me,” Sid panted,
-“if he is ten pounds heavier!”</p>
-
-<p>“Who?” asked Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“Watson. He didn’t get past me once, and I
-turned him twice. Did you notice?”</p>
-
-<p>“Who’s Watson? Their center?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes. If they’d given us a couple of decent
-guards we’d have put it all over that bunch. Burnett
-isn’t so bad, but Hodgson laid down every time
-any one looked at him! You didn’t get in, did you?
-What are you trying for?”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s what I’ve been wondering, Sid.”</p>
-
-<p>“I mean what position.”</p>
-
-<p>“How do I know? End, I suppose. Or half.
-Search me!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, you’d better make up your mind. When
-Coach yells for an end the next time, sing out and
-race on there. That’s the only way you’ll get a
-chance. Beat the other fellow to it, Toby.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62"></a>[62]</span></p>
-
-<p>“I’d be afraid he’d take me,” answered Toby
-dryly. “I don’t know any more about playing end
-than—than you do center!”</p>
-
-<p>Sid grinned. “You watch me, Toby. I’m going
-to fade Watson before this season’s much older, my
-child. Honest, I really believe I’ve got a chance to
-stick this year. Of course, it’s a bit early yet,
-but——”</p>
-
-<p>“What’s he yelling?” interrupted Toby. Play
-had paused, a youth was limping to the side-line and
-Coach Burtis was shouting toward the bench.</p>
-
-<p>“Quarter,” said Sid. He looked left and right
-along the benches. Here and there a player
-squirmed indecisively but none appeared to have
-enough courage to offer his services. “Guess all
-the quarters are used up,” mused Sid.</p>
-
-<p>Trainer Harris added his voice to the coach’s.
-“Aren’t there any quarter-backs over there? Get a
-move on, somebody! Any of you!”</p>
-
-<p>“Coming!” shouted Toby, throwing aside his
-blanket and jumping to his feet.</p>
-
-<p>“He said quarter, you idiot!” hissed Sid. “You
-aren’t a quarter!”</p>
-
-<p>“How do you know?” laughed Toby. “<em>I</em> don’t!”</p>
-
-<p>“All right, this way,” greeted the Coach, as Toby
-raced on. “What’s the name?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63"></a>[63]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Tucker, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ever played quarter, Tucker?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, then what the mischief——”</p>
-
-<p>“Trainer said any of us, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Burtis frowned, smiled and nodded shortly.
-“Go ahead then. Let’s see what you can do. Know
-the signals?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir.” Toby was pretty certain that he had
-forgotten them, but it wouldn’t do to say so! Turning,
-he caught the amused smile of Captain Beech.
-Toby dropped the lid of his left eye gravely and
-stepped to position behind center.</p>
-
-<p>“Look what you’re doing, Tucker,” warned the
-coach. “Third down and four to go.” There was
-amusement in his tone and Toby flushed. Third
-down and four, he thought hurriedly. That meant
-that a line play wasn’t the thing. What was, then?
-He hesitated and glanced doubtfully at the backs.
-The trainer blew his whistle. Something had to be
-done and done quickly. If B Team hadn’t been
-having luck with A’s line there was no use trying to
-get four yards between tackles, even on a third
-down. The teams were near the middle of the field,
-and A had three men back, evidently expecting an
-open play. Then why not——</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64"></a>[64]</span></p>
-
-<p>“14—23—8——” Toby’s voice sounded very
-weak and small to Toby. “14—23——”</p>
-
-<p>“<em>Signals! Signals!</em>” The whole back-field was
-remonstrating, it seemed! His heart sank. He had
-got his signals wrong! But how? No, he was
-right. It was the others who were wrong!</p>
-
-<p>“Signals!” he cried, scowling at the nearer of the
-three backs behind him. “14—27—8—196——”</p>
-
-<p>The team awoke to action. Full-back dashed
-headlong upon him, took the pass and went, twisting
-and boring, into the mêlée. Toby threw himself
-behind, triumphant. His signals <em>had</em> been right,
-just as he had known! (It wasn’t until after practice
-was over that he learned that he had changed
-them the second time!) The play went through for
-well over three yards, the unfeasible for once proving
-feasible, and B Team exulted and looked approval
-at Toby. Toby tried to be modest about it,
-which, considering that he had called for the play
-in sheer desperation, not remembering at the moment
-anything else to call for, wasn’t hard! Some
-one, too, had walked on his face, and that helped
-him toward humility.</p>
-
-<p>Realizing that he had established a reputation for
-generalship, Toby tried hard to live up to it, but
-although B did not get the necessary eighteen<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65"></a>[65]</span>
-inches or so on the next down, the succeeding play
-failed dismally and B lost nearly all she had gained.
-Toby tried to assure himself that the fault was the
-right half-back’s, but something told him that an
-end run from balanced formation was predestined
-to fail and that another time he would remember
-that there was such thing as a shift! Perhaps he
-would have vindicated the reputation gained from
-his first lucky play if the scrimmage hadn’t ended
-then and there; or perhaps he would have become
-exposed for the impostor he knew himself to be. At
-all events, Toby welcomed the whistle heartily.</p>
-
-<p>Afterwards, in the gymnasium, Grover Beech detained
-him on his way from the shower. “Snappy
-work, Tucker,” he said, smilingly. “Glad to see
-you with us.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby reflected the other’s smile in somewhat
-sickly fashion. “Thanks,” he answered lamely.
-“Of course, I didn’t know anything about playing
-quarter, Beech——”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, you got away with it, anyway! That’s the
-main thing. And that plunge at guard when we
-were looking for a pass was clever strategy.” There
-was a twinkle in his eye, however. Toby’s smile
-broadened.</p>
-
-<p>“Have a heart!” he begged. “I didn’t know<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66"></a>[66]</span>
-whether that play was going to right or left,
-Beech!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I’m glad it went to the right,” laughed the
-Second Team captain, “for if it had come my way
-I’d have been just as unready for it as Weld was!
-Going to try for quarter, Tucker?”</p>
-
-<p>“Gee, no! I’ve had all I want of it, thanks. I
-just did it as a sort of joke. I’m no football player,
-Beech, and you’ll miss my shining countenance in
-a day or two.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I hope not,” answered the other. “Better
-stick it out.”</p>
-
-<p>“And you will, if I have my say,” he added to
-himself as Toby went off.</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67"></a>[67]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII<br />
-<small>TOBY MAKES A CALL</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">That evening Tubb’s letter fell to the floor
-when Toby moved a book on the study
-table, and Toby, with a qualm of conscience,
-rescued it and re-read it, a perplexed frown
-on his countenance. Then he drew a pad of paper
-toward him and poised his pen above it. But that
-is as far as he got. After a minute of thought he
-put the pen down and resolutely, if reluctantly,
-pushed back his chair. “How late is the office open,
-Arn?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Eight, I think,” replied his roommate, without
-raising his eyes from his work. “What’s the
-matter?”</p>
-
-<p>“Nothing. I—just want to find out where some
-one lives. Back after a bit.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby made his way downstairs and followed the
-walk to Oxford. At the end of the corridor the
-ground-glass panel marked “Office” still glowed
-with light, and when Toby pushed it open, Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68"></a>[68]</span>
-Forisher, the secretary, was still at work beyond
-the railing. Toby made known his wants and the
-secretary silently pointed with his pen toward a list
-tacked to a board beside the door. The names of
-the students were there, arranged alphabetically,
-and Toby found the T’s and went down the list:
-Tolliver, Tooker, Traine, Tubb, Tucker——</p>
-
-<p>“Whoa!” murmured Toby. “‘Tubb, G. W., Fremont,
-N. H., 4 C., W. 31.’ What do you know?
-Right over my head! That’s the room Felter and
-Dunphy had last year. He and I are side by side on
-the list. Hope that isn’t a what-you-call-it—omen!”
-He retraced his steps to Whitson and ascended two
-flights of worn stairs. The upper corridor awakened
-memories, some pleasant, some otherwise. As
-ever, it was but dimly lighted by a single gas-jet
-near the head of the stairs, and its farther ends were
-pockets of gloom. For some reason electricity as a
-lighting method had never penetrated to Whitson,
-although the other buildings had it. Toby glanced
-toward the door of his old room ere he turned his
-back to it and made his way along the rough boards
-of the hall. Number 31 was on the front of the
-building, about halfway between stair-well and corridor
-end. It was too dark to read the single card
-thumb-tacked to the portal and Toby knocked instead.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69"></a>[69]</span>
-There was a noticeable interim of silence
-before a voice that was strange to the caller called
-an ungracious “Come in!”</p>
-
-<p>Toby accepted the invitation. The only light in
-the room came from the green-shaded droplight on
-the littered table directly before the door, and its
-radius was small, leaving most of the room in
-shadow. For a moment Toby thought he had
-imagined the voice and that the room was empty.
-Then, however, his eyes accustoming themselves to
-the gloom, he saw a blur of white and gray beyond
-the table that gradually evolved into the form of
-George Tubb. Tubb was minus coat and waistcoat,
-and one suspender had escaped from a shoulder.</p>
-
-<p>“Hello,” said Toby uncertainly. There was
-something in the strained silence of the room that
-made him uncomfortable. “I got your note, Tubb,”
-he went on awkwardly, “and I meant to answer
-it——”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s all right,” growled Tubb. “Forget it. I
-had a brain-storm.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby had advanced to the side of the table, and
-now his host was plainly revealed. Tubb had a
-towel in one hand and with it, as he spoke, he dabbed
-at his face. Each time the towel came away there
-was a new stain on it.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_70"></a>[70]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Hasn’t that cut healed yet?” asked Toby in surprise.</p>
-
-<p>“Doesn’t look so, does it?” muttered Tubb. He
-pulled the dropped suspender over his shoulder and
-turned as though in search of his coat.</p>
-
-<p>“But——” began Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“It was all right till I landed on it!” interrupted
-a strident voice from the other side of the room.
-“I hope he bleeds to death!”</p>
-
-<p>Startledly, Toby swung about and peered into the
-shadows. Tubb laughed mirthlessly. “That’s what
-I’ve got to live with,” he announced. “Its name’s
-Ramsey. Have a look at it, Tucker. Show the
-gentleman your face, Percy.”</p>
-
-<p>“You big bully! You—you country jay! You
-wait! I’ll get square, all right. You’ll have——”</p>
-
-<p>“What is this?” broke in Toby, disgusted and
-resentful. “You fellows been scrapping?” He
-stepped around to where the second occupant of the
-room could be discerned beyond the confusing radiance
-of the droplight. The appearance of the unhealthily-stout
-youth confronting him answered the
-question. Ramsey’s nose was bleeding profusely,
-and an already overworked handkerchief was doing
-little to disguise the fact. The boy’s face, pale save
-for flaming disks of red about the cheek bones, was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71"></a>[71]</span>
-convulsed with childish, helpless passion, and his
-dark eyes flashed as venomously as a snake’s.</p>
-
-<p>“You ought to be proud of your friend,” he exclaimed
-in a voice still high and trembling with
-anger. “The country jay! All he can do is call
-names and—and use his fists. I’ll get even, though!
-I guess the faculty will have something to say! I’ve
-stood all I’m going to from the dirty-neck——”</p>
-
-<p>“Drop it!” shouted Tubb, springing toward him.
-Toby pushed him back.</p>
-
-<p>“Listen, you two,” he said vehemently. “There’s
-been enough of this. I don’t know what it’s all
-about, but you ought both to be ashamed of yourselves.
-Any one would think you were a couple of—of
-gutter kids! This sort of thing doesn’t go
-here, and you’d better learn that right now. Get
-a towel, Ramsey, and wash your face. Best way
-to stop that bleeding is to keep a cold bandage there.
-You——”</p>
-
-<p>“No one asked your advice,” sputtered Ramsey.
-“He’s broken my nose——”</p>
-
-<p>“I hope so,” growled Tubb. “I’d like to break
-your fat neck, Percy!”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s what he does!” Ramsey fairly shrieked.
-“You heard him! He’s always doing it! I’m going
-to the Office——”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_72"></a>[72]</span></p>
-
-<p>“What is it he’s always doing?” asked Toby, puzzled
-and impatient. Ramsey became incoherent;
-but Tubb, with a laugh of derision, explained.</p>
-
-<p>“He doesn’t like being called Percy.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then why——”</p>
-
-<p>“Because that’s what he is, a regular Percy.
-Besides, Percy isn’t any worse than Horace, and
-that’s his real name!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, and you call me by it! I’d rather be named
-Horace than Tubb any day! At least, I wash my
-neck sometimes, and that’s more than you do, you
-dirty——”</p>
-
-<p>“I told you to drop it,” growled Tubb, again trying
-to push past Toby. “I’m as clean as you are,
-you fat sissy! One more crack about my neck and
-I’ll finish you for keeps!”</p>
-
-<p>“No, you won’t do anything of the kind,” said
-Toby severely. “Stop calling each other names and
-keep quiet a minute. The first thing you know
-you’ll have a faculty up here! What’s the matter
-with you fellows? Are you crazy?”</p>
-
-<p>“He’s always nagging me!” Ramsey’s wrath was
-turning to grief, and there was a sob in his voice.
-“He’s always calling me Percy——”</p>
-
-<p>“Then let me alone,” retorted Tubb. “It’s bad
-enough having to room with a mother’s pet like you,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_73"></a>[73]</span>
-without getting your lip all the time. I’ve warned
-you fifty times, haven’t I? Tell the truth now!
-Haven’t I told you over and over that I wouldn’t
-stand for your sneers and your silly jokes?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m not afraid of you, you big——”</p>
-
-<p>“Stop!” commanded Toby sternly. “I’ll take a
-hand myself now, and the first one of you who calls
-names will get a licking from me. I mean it. It
-may not be my business, but I’m going to make it
-that. Tubb, you sit down in that chair. Ramsey,
-you sit in the other one.”</p>
-
-<p>Tubb, with a fleeting grin, obeyed unhesitatingly.
-Horace Ramsey looked rebellious, muttered,
-smeared his face anew with the gory handkerchief
-and finally subsided. There was no lavatory on the
-third floor of Whitson and the rooms up there were
-supplied with washstands. Toby poured water
-from pitcher to bowl and soaked a towel in it.
-Silence reigned save for occasional muffled gasps
-from Ramsey. Toby wrung the towel half dry.</p>
-
-<p>“Hold that tight to your nose, Ramsey, and keep
-your head back as far as you can,” he directed.
-Ramsey twitched his heavy shoulders resentfully,
-but Toby tipped his chin back and planked the
-folded towel over the leaking nose. “That’s it.
-Hold it there with your hand. It will stop in a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_74"></a>[74]</span>
-minute, I guess. Anyway, cold water will take the
-soreness out.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, it will,” snuffled Ramsey. “I don’t think!
-He’s broken it, I tell you! I ought to see the
-doctor.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I don’t think so,” replied Toby reassuringly.
-“Noses don’t break very easily. They feel broken
-lots of times when they’re just bruised.”</p>
-
-<p>“I didn’t hit him hard enough——” began Tubb.</p>
-
-<p>“You did, too! You—you hammered me!”</p>
-
-<p>“No, I didn’t,” the other growled, “but I will the
-next time!”</p>
-
-<p>“There isn’t going to be any next time,” said
-Toby quietly. He found a chair beside one of the
-beds and set it in front of the belligerents. Secretly,
-he was rather amused at the rôle he had
-assumed. He was no more than a year older than
-Tubb, and he might be Ramsey’s senior by even
-less; and he was far from certain that, should he be
-required to fulfill his threat, he was much more than
-a match for Tubb when it came to a fight. But he
-kept his doubts to himself and viewed the two with
-assurance. “Let’s get this cleared up now,” he went
-on pleasantly. “You two fellows will have to room
-together at least until Christmas recess, and you
-might just as well make up your minds to do it<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75"></a>[75]</span>
-peacefully. What’s your objection to Tubb, Ramsey?
-You shut up, Tubb: you’ll have your say in
-a minute.”</p>
-
-<p>“He doesn’t like me,” said Ramsey, after a moment’s
-hesitation, “and he’s always nagging at me.
-He calls me Percy and makes fun of me because I
-wear decent socks and underwear and things——”</p>
-
-<p>“You ought to see ’em,” muttered Tubb scathingly.</p>
-
-<p>“Please!” said Toby. “Ramsey’s doing the talking
-now. And what else, Ramsey?”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, he’s—he’s always at it! It would make
-any fellow mad, I guess! And he says I’m fat!”</p>
-
-<p>“All right. Now, Tubb, what’s your grouch?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, he makes me sick, Tucker! Look at him!
-How’d you like to live with him all the time?
-Looks like a fat white toad!”</p>
-
-<p>“I’d rather be a toad——” But Ramsey stopped
-under Toby’s warning look, and subsided in
-mutters.</p>
-
-<p>“He says I don’t wash my neck and that I’m a
-country greenhorn,” resumed Tubb. “He’s one
-of these Willie Boys from the city who think they
-know it all. He wears lavender and old-rose socks
-and the cutest little union suits you ever saw,
-Tucker. And—oh, he makes me tired!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76"></a>[76]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Fine!” said Toby. “Now I’ll talk.” He turned
-to Ramsey. “Tubb says you’re fat, and so you are,
-Ramsey. You’re disgustingly soft and fat. You
-ought to be ashamed of it. If I were you I’d get rid
-of twenty pounds if I had to lose sleep to do it.
-Stop eating sweet stuff for a month, get outdoors
-and exercise. As for lavender socks, that’s your
-affair. If you don’t like being called Percy, don’t
-act Percy.” He turned to Tubb. “Ramsey says
-you don’t wash your neck, Tubb, and you don’t.
-At least, you don’t wash it enough. It’s not clean.
-I’ve noticed that myself. As for being from the
-country, why, you are, aren’t you? There’s nothing
-to be ashamed of in that, and if you aren’t ashamed
-of it you won’t mind being reminded of it. Now
-the real trouble with you two fellows is just this.
-You are both of you too much concerned with yourselves.
-You need to think about something else for
-awhile. Neither of you has a good big interest in
-life, and you need one. Know any game, Ramsey?”</p>
-
-<p>“Game?” repeated the boy vaguely.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, sport, then. Ever play football or tennis
-or golf?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ve played tennis,” said Ramsey uninterestedly.
-“I don’t care for sports.”</p>
-
-<p>“You don’t need to tell me that. But wouldn’t<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77"></a>[77]</span>
-you rather play tennis or golf, or even football, than
-have to take an hour in the gymnasium every day?”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t think so,” muttered Ramsey.</p>
-
-<p>“You’ll change your mind presently, then. What
-about you, Tubb? You’ve played baseball, I guess.”</p>
-
-<p>“Sure.”</p>
-
-<p>“Football?”</p>
-
-<p>“Some.”</p>
-
-<p>“Good enough! I’ll get you started to-morrow.
-Got any togs?”</p>
-
-<p>Tubb shook his head. “I didn’t bring ’em. They
-weren’t—weren’t dressy enough for this dump!”</p>
-
-<p>“Can you afford to buy some new ones?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, if I want to.” Tubb sounded defiant.</p>
-
-<p>“Get some to-morrow before three, then. There
-are two or three stores in Greenburg where you can
-get fixed up. I’ll come up here for you at three
-sharp. What hour have you got free in the morning,
-Ramsey, on Tuesdays?”</p>
-
-<p>“Nine to ten,” replied Ramsey, after consideration.</p>
-
-<p>“Good! So have I. Meet me at the tennis courts
-at five past nine. Got a racket?” Ramsey nodded.
-“All right. That’s settled. Now I want you fellows
-to promise me something.” He eyed them
-both sternly. “I want you to promise me that you’ll<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_78"></a>[78]</span>
-both keep silent the rest of the evening. You’re not
-to speak a word, either of you, until you wake up
-in the morning. That is,” he added, smiling, “after
-I go. And I’m going now. Nine-five at the courts,
-Ramsey. Three sharp up here, Tubb. Good-night!”</p>
-
-<p>A sort of dazed silence held them both until the
-door was almost shut on Toby. Then:</p>
-
-<p>“Good-night,” stammered Ramsey, and:</p>
-
-<p>“Go to thunder!” growled Tubb.</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_79"></a>[79]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII<br />
-<small>TUBB TRIES FOOTBALL</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">Arnold was interested and amused, but he
-didn’t approve, and he said so. “You’ll
-have those freaks hanging around your
-neck for the rest of the year, T. Tucker,” he remonstrated.
-“You can’t make over a poor thing like
-this Tubb, or the other chap, from what you say of
-him. What do you expect to do? Play tennis with
-Rumsey——”</p>
-
-<p>“Ramsey,” Toby corrected meekly.</p>
-
-<p>“<em>Rum</em> is more like it, I guess,” accepted Arnold
-grimly. “Anyhow, do you mean to take him on at
-tennis every day until he loses his fat and—and
-finds a soul? Besides, you can’t play tennis for
-beans!”</p>
-
-<p>“N-no, but I dare say I’m good enough for Ramsey.
-Oh, I guess I have made a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">faux pas</i>, as we say
-in French, but, hang it, Arn, you can’t see a couple
-of idiots making fools of themselves——”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80"></a>[80]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Idiots generally are fools, aren’t they? Look
-here, Toby, something’s gone wrong with your
-alleged intellect. You didn’t used to hunt trouble
-like this. You were beautifully—er—what’s the
-word?—beautifully aloof. Used to mind your own
-business better than any chap I ever knew. Now
-look at you! Going out of your way to get mixed
-up with all sorts of queer fellows like this Tubb
-and this other freak. Isn’t young Lingard enough
-of a warning to you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Tommy doesn’t love me any more,” answered
-Toby pathetically. “And I just must have affection,
-Arn!”</p>
-
-<p>“Affection!” grunted his chum. “What you need
-is a swift kick, my son! All right, all right, go on
-with your missionary work, but don’t ask me to
-help you out. And, for the love of lemons, Toby,
-don’t have these weird friends of yours in here!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I shan’t encourage them to call, but, of
-course, Arn, if they should——” Toby smiled innocently.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, if they do I’ll beat it. Now shut up and
-let me study this beastly math.”</p>
-
-<p>But although Toby pretended to be undisturbed
-by Arnold’s predictions, secretly he was regretful.
-Why, he wondered, as he tried to fix his mind on<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81"></a>[81]</span>
-the subject of French nouns, had he insisted on
-assuming the part of guide and mentor to those two
-unpromising chaps in Number 31? Of course,
-neither of them would keep the engagements he had
-made for them. Things wouldn’t happen as easy as
-that. Well, in that case he would have a good excuse
-to drop them, he reflected. After all, it wasn’t
-his business to look after their welfare. Besides,
-he was going to be far too busy, what with lessons
-and football, to fuss with them. Busy? Gee, he’d
-say he was! He meant to go after another scholarship
-this term, and that meant real work. He ought
-never to have taken on football. It wasn’t worth
-risking a scholarship for. No, sir, it just wasn’t!
-And he’d drop it the end of the week surely—if it
-didn’t drop him first!</p>
-
-<p>To his surprise, Ramsey was awaiting him at
-the tennis courts when he reached them, a minute
-or two late, the next forenoon. Ramsey was appropriately
-attired in white flannels and looked less
-objectionable this morning, even though his nose
-was still somewhat larger than normal. He greeted
-Toby rather sheepishly, as if ashamed of having
-kept the appointment. But Toby pretended that
-there was nothing unusual in the situation, and
-greeted Ramsey cheerily. Perhaps he was a little<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82"></a>[82]</span>
-bit disappointed at finding the other there, though.
-If he was we can scarcely blame him.</p>
-
-<p>Ramsey proved to be a better player than Toby
-had anticipated. He had a puzzling service and a
-good back-hand stroke, and was rather crafty at
-placing. In short, if Ramsey had had half as much
-speed as science he would have run away with the
-first set. As it was, Toby finally captured it, 7 to 5.
-Ramsey wasn’t enthusiastic about a second set, but
-Toby refused to heed his reluctance and they went
-at it again. Now, however, Ramsey’s skill was
-more than offset by weariness, and Toby did pretty
-much as he liked with his opponent. He might
-have secured the victory very easily, but he purposely
-allowed Ramsey to take the fourth and sixth
-games, determined that the latter’s first dose should
-be a strong one. The morning was sufficiently
-warm to put even Toby in a perspiration, and Ramsey
-literally oozed moisture. The second set went
-as far as 4 to 2 and then recitations called them
-back to Oxford. There had been little conversation
-during the playing, but returning up the hill Ramsey
-became rather communicative.</p>
-
-<p>“I guess I could beat you, Tucker,” he said,
-mopping his flushed face with a sodden handkerchief,
-“if I wasn’t so out of practice. I haven’t<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83"></a>[83]</span>
-played much for a couple of years. My heart
-isn’t very strong, you see, and my mother doesn’t
-like me to do much of it. In fact, one set at a
-time is my usual limit.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, you’d beat me easily if you weighed fifteen
-pounds less,” agreed Toby. “Who told you your
-heart isn’t strong?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I don’t know,” replied the other vaguely.
-“It’s always been that way, ever since I was a kid.
-Mother says I had scarlet fever or something when
-I was five or six, and that sort of weakened it. I
-dare say it isn’t really dangerous, you know, but
-you can’t help thinking about it sometimes. I get
-tired very easily. It was about all I could do to
-keep on my feet toward the last, back there. My
-breath gives out and my heart gets to pounding
-horribly. I’m strong enough other ways, though.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby surveyed him gravely. “You would be if
-you took care of yourself,” he said. “If you didn’t
-eat too much and took plenty of exercise you’d do,
-I guess. You’re as soft as a lump of dough now,
-though,” he added unfeelingly. “How much do
-you weigh?”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know. I haven’t been weighed for a
-long time.” Ramsey’s tone was aggrieved.</p>
-
-<p>“Run into the gym the first chance you get and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84"></a>[84]</span>
-find out. And make a note of it, Ramsey. Well,
-see you again. I enjoyed playing. Maybe we can
-have another game some day.” He was purposely
-careless and vague, and found his reward in the
-flicker of disappointment in Ramsey’s eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“I’d like it, too,” murmured the boy. “I suppose
-you’re pretty busy, though.”</p>
-
-<p>“Fairly, yes. I tell you what, I’ll drop around
-some evening and we’ll compare schedules. Maybe
-we can get in an hour now and then in the mornings.
-If I were you, though, Ramsey, I’d try to
-find some fellow to play with meanwhile. Take
-your racket down to the court in the afternoon and
-hang around. You can generally run across some
-one looking for a game. So long!”</p>
-
-<p>They parted in the corridor and Toby, hurrying
-along the west hall, told himself that perhaps, after
-all, Horace Ramsey was worth troubling about.
-Anyway, no harm had been done, and if Ramsey
-did take up tennis again positive good would result.
-All the boy needed was to get rid of a lot of fat by
-healthful exercise and wise eating. “Got to get
-that bum heart notion out of his head, though,”
-Toby added. “Probably got as good a heart as I
-have, or any other chap. Fine scheme to bring a
-boy up with the idea that he can’t play tennis or<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85"></a>[85]</span>
-take exercise because his heart is weak! Swell way
-to strengthen it, loafing around and eating everything
-that’s rich and soggy! Of course, he may have
-something wrong with it; it’s possible; but I don’t
-believe it. I’ll get him to go to Mr. Bendix and
-see what he says.”</p>
-
-<p>At three o’clock Toby rapped on the portal of
-Number 31 according to agreement. Tubb bade
-him enter. Tubb was not, as Toby observed, ready
-for football. In fact, Tubb didn’t look to be ready
-for anything but to make himself disagreeable.
-Ramsey was not there.</p>
-
-<p>“Thought you were going to be all ready,” announced
-Toby as he closed the door behind him.
-“Get a move on, Tubb, it’s three now. Where are
-your togs?”</p>
-
-<p>“I didn’t get any,” answered the other defiantly.</p>
-
-<p>“Why not? Didn’t they have them? Did you
-try——”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, what’s the use? I’m not going out for football.
-What chance would I have? I don’t know
-any one and I haven’t any pull. And I ain’t much
-good at it, anyway.”</p>
-
-<p>“You can learn, can’t you? There isn’t time to
-argue about it, Tubb. You can get your togs to-morrow.
-I’ll get you fixed out all right for to-day.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86"></a>[86]</span>
-I’ve got an old pair of pants in my locker, and we
-can borrow shoes. You’ve got an old sweater,
-haven’t you?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ve changed my mind,” growled Tubb stubbornly.</p>
-
-<p>“I haven’t,” replied Toby pleasantly. “Come on
-now! We’ve got to hustle! I told them I was going
-to bring you, and they’ll be disappointed if I
-don’t.”</p>
-
-<p>Tubb inelegantly expressed unbelief. “Told
-who?” he demanded.</p>
-
-<p>“Never mind who,” said Toby, “you come on
-and see.” To be very truthful, Toby had quite
-casually mentioned to Grover Beech at noon that
-he was bringing another Second Team candidate
-out with him in the afternoon, and Beech had
-nodded approvingly, but that Beech would be disappointed
-was somewhat problematical.</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” said Tubb, “I can’t go to-day. Maybe
-to-morrow——”</p>
-
-<p>Toby stepped forward and to Tubb’s vast surprise
-pulled the latter swiftly to his feet. “Where’s
-that sweater?” he demanded. Tubb blinked, his
-mouth open for words that didn’t come. “Which
-is your closet?” continued Toby quickly. Tubb’s
-eyes shifted to the left and Toby pulled open a door,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87"></a>[87]</span>
-fumbled through the few garments hanging beyond
-it and pulled out a faded brown coat-sweater. “This
-isn’t the kind you want, but it’ll have to do,” he said
-briskly. He tossed it over his arm and threw back
-the door into the corridor. “All right! Beat it!”</p>
-
-<p>Tubb’s face expressed a queer mingling of resentment
-and relief. But even yet he managed to
-find objections. “Oh, what’s the good?” he growled.
-“I don’t want to play football, anyway. I don’t
-want——”</p>
-
-<p>What he didn’t want was quickly changed to
-what he did want, for he found himself suddenly
-outside in the corridor, the door closed behind him
-and Toby’s firm, impelling clutch on his neck.
-“Wait! I want my hat!” he begged.</p>
-
-<p>“You don’t need a hat,” was the inexorable answer.
-“Go on! I tell you it’s getting late, and
-we’ve got to change yet. Hustle, G. W. Tubb!”</p>
-
-<p>Somewhat to Toby’s surprise, Tubb hustled. He
-tried to make a pretense of hanging back, but he
-nevertheless covered the ground between dormitory
-and gymnasium in very good time. The locker-room
-in the basement was fairly packed with First
-and Second Team candidates, and Toby was aware
-of an occasional curious glance, but for the most
-part the occupants of the room were too busy to pay<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88"></a>[88]</span>
-attention to him or his charge. He found the old
-football trousers, borrowed a pair of shoes from
-one neighbor and stockings from a second, and
-presently Tubb, presenting a rather dilapidated appearance,
-was attired for business. He nevertheless
-looked, Toby thought, a bit more presentable
-in the battle-scarred togs than in the shapeless and
-wrinkled clothes he had removed. During the operation
-of dressing Tubb grumbled and sneered continuously,
-but he was no longer fooling Toby. It
-was plain to be seen that Tubb was really quite as
-anxious to get to the field as Toby was to have him!</p>
-
-<p>Several other newcomers reported that afternoon,
-and so Tubb was not alone as a tyro. Toby haled
-him at once to Sam Wansworth, the manager, and
-Tubb replied grumpily to the few stereotyped questions
-asked. Then practice was started and the two
-parted, Toby joining his usual squad and Tubb the
-bunch of latest recruits. It was an afternoon of
-good football weather, bright and crisp, with a
-straight breeze blowing down the field from the
-marshes across the glistening river. Beyond, on
-the First Team gridiron, a half-dozen punters and
-drop-kickers were busy in front of the north goal,
-and the pigskins arose and fell against the blue distance.
-Just above the boathouse the single occupant<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89"></a>[89]</span>
-of a bright yellow canoe was struggling gamely
-against wind and tide, the sunlight flashing on the
-dripping paddle.</p>
-
-<p>Twenty minutes of passing and starting, and then
-Toby’s squad was trotted over to the tackling dummies
-and he had his first clutch at the moving, swaying
-canvas effigy. That his first clutch wasn’t a
-firm one is easily understood by those who have
-been through his experience. “Gyp” Harris was
-in charge, and Gyp wasn’t one to be easily satisfied.
-Working the rope that sent the dummy rattling
-along the cable between the posts with one hand, he
-used the other to point and gesticulate. Toby
-thought he had never seen any one more eloquent
-with one hand than the trainer! Not, however,
-that Gyp was dumb, or even tongue-tied. On the
-contrary, he had a strong voice and an effective
-vocabulary, and he kept both busy in a sort of sing-song
-fashion.</p>
-
-<p>“Next man! Feet together! Let ’er go! Off
-on the left! Get him! Hold him! Pull him down!
-Rotten, perfectly rotten! You tackled too high
-again! Next man!...”</p>
-
-<p>Occasionally there was pause while Gyp left the
-pulley and strode over to the head of the line and
-gave an illustration or criticized with ample detail<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90"></a>[90]</span>
-some glaringly unfortunate attempt. “What have
-I told you about getting your body in front of the
-dummy, Bowen? Can’t you understand that when
-you tackle a runner from behind he’s going to drag
-you a way before you can stop him? Get in front
-of him so that your body blocks him. A man can’t
-push with his legs below the knees when he’s on his
-feet. Of course, you’re supposed to get to him hard
-enough to put him off his feet. But if he has slowed
-up to meet you your game is to lift him and throw
-him back toward his own goal. You can’t do that
-if you’re behind him because he will throw his
-weight forward. Get your body in front, lock his
-knees and lift. And don’t land on your stomach
-when you dive, Bowen. Land on your hip. See if
-you can’t get it right the next time.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby came to the conclusion that he was more
-than ordinarily stupid, but it is probable that he
-did as well as any of the others that first day. Presently
-they were dismissed, though not with the
-trainer’s blessing, and another squad took their
-place. Coach Burtis and Captain Beech had formed
-a tentative team of the more experienced or more
-likely candidates, and these were trotting around
-the field in signal work with Frick at quarter-back.
-Toby and three other fellows were sent across to the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_91"></a>[91]</span>
-further side of the gridiron to catch punts, or, failing
-the catch, to recover them as best they could.
-At that game Toby found himself rather clever. He
-seemed able to judge the wobbling, descending balls
-with more certainty than his companions and to
-hold them better when they reached him. Having
-got a ball, he trotted back part way across and
-threw it the rest of the distance. He would have
-liked to punt it, but this was forbidden.</p>
-
-<p>Still later, he was set to taking snap-backs and
-passes from Watson, one of the candidates for
-center. He gathered that Watson had shown himself
-deficient in that branch of his play. It wasn’t
-very interesting work, for Watson was earnest and
-determined and erratic, and Toby spent half of his
-time chasing around after the pigskin. Once, taking
-passes from a distance of five yards and at an angle,
-or trying to, he became aware that some one was
-looking on and turned to discover Coach Burtis
-behind him. The coach nodded encouragingly.
-“Not bad, Tucker. Try to be a little more shifty
-on your feet, though. Keep on your toes, ready to
-go in any direction. In play it’s rather disastrous
-to let the ball get past you, you know.”</p>
-
-<p>He went on, leaving Toby surprised and gratified
-that he had remembered his name.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92"></a>[92]</span></p>
-
-<p>There was no scrimmage to-day, and practice
-ended with a two-lap trot around the gridiron and
-then up to the gymnasium, where most of them arrived
-very much out of breath. During practice
-Toby had caught an occasional glimpse of Tubb
-looking harassed and mutinous, but it wasn’t until
-they met in the locker-room that Toby had an opportunity
-to speak to him. Tubb sank onto the
-bench with a grunt of weariness and disgust and
-savagely attacked the laces of his borrowed shoes.
-Toby, hiding a grin, asked pleasantly:</p>
-
-<p>“Well, how did it go, Tubb?”</p>
-
-<p>“Rotten! There’s no sense to that sort of stuff.
-I thought I was going to play football, not bean-bag!”</p>
-
-<p>“It is rather tiresome at first,” said Toby, “but
-you’ll soon be through with that. To-morrow——”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, I’m through with it right now,” growled
-Tubb. “I’ve had all I want, thanks, Tucker.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, piffle, Tubb! You’re not going to quit like
-that!”</p>
-
-<p>“Ain’t I? You watch me!” replied the other
-grimly.</p>
-
-<p>“Better give it a fair trial. After all, there’s a
-certain amount of drudgery to be gone through<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93"></a>[93]</span>
-with, no matter what you take up. Learning to
-handle the ball is quite necessary, Tubb.”</p>
-
-<p>“A whole afternoon of it isn’t necessary, I guess.
-Anyway, I’m through.” Tubb kicked the shoes
-aside scowlingly. “I knew how it would be. A few
-fellows get all the pickings and the others play the
-goat. All you’ll get out of it, Tucker, is a lot of
-hard work, and then they’ll give you the bounce.”</p>
-
-<p>“What of it if I have a good time before they
-do?” asked Toby cheerfully.</p>
-
-<p>“A good time!” sneered the other.</p>
-
-<p>“Sure. Come on and have a shower and you’ll
-feel better, Tubb.”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t want any shower,” muttered Tubb.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I do. As a favor to me, I wish you’d
-keep on for the rest of this week, Tubb.” Toby
-spoke earnestly and smiled. Tubb caught the smile.
-After a moment he growled hesitantly:</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, well—I’ll see.”</p>
-
-<p>“Thanks. That’s a promise!”</p>
-
-<p>“’Tain’t either! I didn’t say——”</p>
-
-<p>But Toby was off and Tubb’s protest went unfinished.</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94"></a>[94]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX<br />
-<small>YARDLEY PLAYS GREENBURG</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">Two mornings later Toby again played
-tennis with Horace Ramsey. This time
-Horace captured the first set, mainly on
-his serve, and made Toby work hard to keep ahead
-in the second. Horace had followed Toby’s advice
-and had sought and found an opponent the day
-before, and he was fast reviving his enthusiasm for
-the game. Although it was perhaps only imagination,
-Toby thought that the younger boy already
-showed evidences of benefit from the exercise. To-day
-he made Horace promise to have Mr. Bendix,
-the physical director, give him a thorough examination,
-and on Saturday Horace reported the result
-of it.</p>
-
-<p>“I suppose he knows,” said Horace dubiously,
-“but it’s funny he didn’t say anything about my
-heart until I asked him.”</p>
-
-<p>“What did he say then?” inquired Toby.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95"></a>[95]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Well, he said there was nothing the matter with
-it.” Horace was evidently thoroughly puzzled. “He
-said it was just as good as his. Maybe he didn’t
-want to frighten me, though. Do you think that’s
-it, Tucker?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, I don’t,” replied Toby bluntly. “I think
-he told the truth. If there ever was anything wrong
-with your heart you’ve outgrown it, Ramsey. Don’t
-worry about his trying to let you down easy. He
-wouldn’t. I know that he’s mighty careful about
-weak hearts. He’s kept lots of fellows out of track
-work and baseball just because of that trouble. No,
-sir, Ramsey, if ‘Muscles’ says your heart is all right,
-you may depend upon it that it is all right. How
-about your weight? Dropped any yet?”</p>
-
-<p>Horace’s brow cleared magically. “Haven’t I?”
-he exclaimed. “Two and a quarter pounds since I
-weighed Tuesday! How’s that?”</p>
-
-<p>“Fine—for a start,” answered Toby. “Keep it
-up. You’ve only begun!”</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile, Tubb had kept on at football, although
-under constant protest. He had bought
-himself togs, and very good ones they were; a fact
-which led Toby to hope and believe that, in spite
-of his growls, Tubb really meant to keep on. Whenever
-they met, however, Tubb wearied Toby sadly<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_96"></a>[96]</span>
-with his grouches. He insisted on holding Toby
-responsible for every bruise and every tired muscle.
-While he didn’t say it in so many words, he made
-Toby understand that he had remained in the Second
-Team squad merely to oblige the other. A
-martyr is bad enough to have to listen to, but when
-the martyr has a grouch he is even more irritating.
-There were times when Toby would have given
-much for the privilege of kicking Tubb. But he
-didn’t. He didn’t even tell him to dry up and blow
-away. He kept his temper and listened to the boy’s
-growls without a murmur. Naturally, he didn’t
-seek Tubb’s society. In fact, whenever he could
-do so without having it seem too apparent, he
-avoided the pale-faced youth as he would have
-avoided any other pest.</p>
-
-<p>By that Saturday, however, the word pale-faced
-no longer applied to Tubb as it had a week before.
-Four very warm days such as frequently visit Connecticut
-around the first of October had brushed
-Tubb’s cheeks with red and set his nose to peeling.
-Perhaps the change hadn’t benefited the lad’s appearance
-much, but Toby noted it hopefully. Toby
-himself had added another shade of brown to a
-complexion already well sunburned by a summer
-spent largely on the water, and his blue eyes looked<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_97"></a>[97]</span>
-lighter than ever in comparison with the surrounding
-territory of mahogany hue.</p>
-
-<p>Something quite unlooked for and, to Toby, extremely
-disconcerting had happened the middle of
-that week. On Wednesday there had been a summons
-to quarter-back candidates to the lower end
-of the field for punting practice. Toby had remained
-serenely unaffected on the bench, whither he
-had retired after a strenuous bout with the tackling
-dummy, until he had been awakened by the challenge
-of Coach Burtis.</p>
-
-<p>“Where are you, Tucker? Didn’t you hear the
-call?” Mr. Burtis was a trifle incisive as to voice,
-for prompt obedience was something he insisted on.
-Toby, alarmed, jumped to his feet and looked wildly
-about him.</p>
-
-<p>“N-no, sir! What—where——”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, hurry up.” The coach waved a hand toward
-the north goal. “Quarter-backs down there
-for punting.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby stared, opened his mouth, closed it, stood
-irresolute until Mr. Burtis asked sharply: “Well,
-what’s wrong? You’re trying for quarter, aren’t
-you?”</p>
-
-<p>“N-n——” Toby gulped hard. “Yes, sir!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_98"></a>[98]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Well, get busy then! Want me to lead you by
-the hand?”</p>
-
-<p>Toby found his feet and hurried away, pursued
-by the laughter of the others along the bench.</p>
-
-<p>“So I’m a quarter-back, am I?” he asked himself
-bewilderedly as he ran. “Gee, that’s a new one on
-me! Well, it’s fine to know what you are, even if
-you know you aren’t! I guess he will change his
-mind after he’s seen me try it!”</p>
-
-<p>There were four other fellows there when he
-reached the scene: Frick, Stair, Rawson, and Bird.
-Stillwell was coaching. Toby knew very little about
-punting as a science, although he could kick a football
-for varying distances from five yards to thirty—if
-he didn’t miss it altogether! There was very
-little actual punting that day, for Stillwell had a lot
-to say on the theory of it, and for the most part
-the pupils practiced holding the ball and dropping
-it, standing and stepping forward and swinging the
-leg. At the end Stillwell let them try a few punts,
-and Toby, for his part, hoped that Coach Burtis
-wasn’t watching! That evening he had a brand-new
-lot of aches situate in the right hip and down
-the right leg. “Stillwell,” he confided ruefully to
-Arnold, “thought he was coaching a bunch of ballet
-dancers. He was never happy unless we were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_99"></a>[99]</span>
-standing on the left foot and pointing the right toe
-straight at the zenith, whatever the zenith is! I
-don’t feel happy on both feet, Arn. Mind if I tuck
-one over the transom?”</p>
-
-<p>“You’re mighty lucky to get a chance at quarter,”
-answered his chum severely. “Don’t you know
-that?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes,” said Toby, “I’m painfully aware of
-it!”</p>
-
-<p>By Saturday he had forgotten his aches and the
-lameness was gone and he could toe the pigskin
-in a fairly creditable manner and for decent distances,
-so long as direction was not important. But
-when he was told to place a punt near the right
-side line about thirty yards distant, either he sent it
-toward the left side line or down the middle of
-the field. Or if by any possible chance he
-got the direction right, then the ball went fifteen
-yards instead of thirty. There was, he
-allowed, a lot more to punting than he had
-suspected. Of course, life wasn’t all swinging a
-scuffed shoe against a stained and battered football
-those days. There was signal work, too. And
-some experimenting in forward passing. And other
-things. And Toby frequently regretted the fact
-that he had not dared to tell Coach Burtis the truth<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_100"></a>[100]</span>
-when he had been accused of quarter-back aspirations.
-Still, when things weren’t at their worst,
-he enjoyed it. No one took him seriously as a
-quarter, not even Grover Beech; and when scrimmaging
-began Frick and Rawson and Stair had the
-call over him. Only once that week had Toby
-worked at quarter, and then for only a matter of
-five minutes or so on B Squad. For many days
-he disliked to recall the event, for he had dared a
-quarter-back run and Farquhar, an opposing tackle,
-had chased him back and back until, in sheer fear of
-being forced over his own goal line, he had toppled
-to earth, snuggling the ball, a good fifteen yards
-back of where he had started from! It was a very
-sheepish Toby who scrambled to his feet again, for
-there was a ripple of laughter from the bench and
-many amused faces about him. For the few remaining
-moments of play he was too wretched to be
-of much use. Fortunately for him, perhaps, A
-Squad had the ball and Toby was able to retire
-up-field and nurse his wounded feelings in solitude.
-Afterwards he reached the pleasing conclusion that
-he was not necessarily dishonored for life, but it
-was some time before he cared to recall the incident.</p>
-
-<p>On Saturday practice was over early in order that<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_101"></a>[101]</span>
-the Second might profit by watching the First Team
-play Greenburg High School. High School wasn’t
-a formidable opponent even for a first game of
-the season. Yardley had started her schedule with
-High School for many years, generally winning by
-a comfortable margin of points. The contest served
-to try out a large number of players, and it was
-usually on the Monday following the Greenburg
-game that the first cut in the squad was made. In
-consequence to-day’s battle meant a good deal to
-some candidates who felt their positions to be none
-too secure, and there were many anxious faces
-amongst the substitutes who graced the bench after
-the game had started.</p>
-
-<p>Toby and the rest of the Second Team fellows
-didn’t reach the scene until the second period had
-begun. Then they perched themselves, still wrapped
-in their blankets like so many Indians, in the nearer
-corner of the old stand and proceeded to be extremely
-critical. Sid Creel squeezed into a place
-beside Toby with a huge sigh of enjoyment. “Nothing
-to do but watch a lot of poor boobs work themselves
-deaf, dumb, and blind,” he said with relish.
-“Who’s at center for them, Toby?”</p>
-
-<p>“Simpson.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_102"></a>[102]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Well, he’s the best they’ve got, to my thinking.
-He’s light, though.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, well, his weight’s where it ought to be,
-Sid.”</p>
-
-<p>“Meaning?”</p>
-
-<p>“He’s got brains. So many centers haven’t, you
-know.”</p>
-
-<p>“Huh? ’S at so? Well, let me inform you—Oh,
-good work, Phil! How’s that for a neat little
-canter, Toby? More than twenty yards! What’s
-eating that referee? Oh, my word! Offside—no,
-holding! I didn’t see any holding, did you? That
-referee’s crazy!”</p>
-
-<p>“No, I didn’t see any holding unless you call it
-holding to nearly pull a fellow’s arm off him!”</p>
-
-<p>“Who did that?”</p>
-
-<p>“Ted Halliday.”</p>
-
-<p>“Idiot! Look what it’s cost them! Say, is Deering
-playing?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, that’s Bates at right half. And Roover at
-left. Arn will get in, of course. Maybe he’s been
-in. Mr. Lyle will use about every fellow he’s got
-to-day, I suppose.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, he’ll use a lot to-day and lose a lot to-morrow
-or Monday. Look at that line of victims<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_103"></a>[103]</span>
-over there. A good third of them will be missing
-next week.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, and some of them will be playing on the
-Second, Sid. I wouldn’t wonder if we got a good
-center pretty soon.”</p>
-
-<p>“Soon! we’ve got one right now. I don’t want to
-seem boastful, but—Gee, what a rotten punt! Who
-was that? Snowden, eh? Well, Larry wants to
-do better than that or he will lose his job! Gee, I
-could kick a ball farther than that myself!”</p>
-
-<p>Followed a Greenburg fumble, a quick recovery
-for a loss and a weird attempt at an end run almost
-under High School’s goal. Then a kick on second
-down and the ball floated into the waiting arms of
-Will Curran, the Yardley quarter, just past the
-center of the field. Curran was still the old Curran,
-it seemed, for he was off like a shot, side-stepped
-an adversary, broke through the nearer field
-of mingled friend and foe, and was off on a long,
-straight dash for the Greenburg goal. Toby and
-Sid cheered prodigiously as Curran fooled the anxious
-quarter and romped over the last white line
-between the posts. Snowden missed the goal and
-the figures on the score-board stood 11 to 0. The
-half ended a moment later and the big squad of
-blue-legged players trailed off to the gymnasium.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_104"></a>[104]</span>
-Sid ambled off to find some fellow who had borrowed
-a dollar from him last spring, his round
-face set in determined lines, and a moment later
-George Tubb took the vacant place at Toby’s side.</p>
-
-<p>“Pretty punk game, isn’t it?” he said.</p>
-
-<p>Toby concealed his displeasure as best he could.
-“Well, it’s the first one, you know. Can’t expect
-much of a first game. How did you get on to-day?”</p>
-
-<p>“Pretty good.” Toby was actually startled.
-Never before had he heard Tubb approach so close
-to enthusiasm! Even the rest of his response
-couldn’t altogether spoil the first part. “I’m through
-to-day, though. I only agreed to keep on for the
-week, you know. Well, here’s your fat friend coming
-back, and I’ll beat it. So long, Tucker.”</p>
-
-<p>“So long,” answered Toby. To himself he added
-viciously, “I’d like to punch your silly head!”</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_105"></a>[105]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X<br />
-<small>TOBY EMPTIES HIS LOCKER</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">“The cheek of him!” exclaimed Sid, seating
-himself. “What do you think he asked
-me to do?”</p>
-
-<p>“Go away?” hazarded Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“Asked me to lend him another half! Said he’d
-pay it all back next Wednesday, when he gets his
-allowance. What do you know about that? That
-fellow’s got the makings of a financier!”</p>
-
-<p>“Or a grafter,” laughed Toby. Sid shook his
-head.</p>
-
-<p>“No, his method is too high-class. He will be a
-J. Pierpont Rockefeller at thirty. Well, anyway, I
-told him what I thought of him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then you didn’t get your dollar, eh? Look here,
-if you’re hard-up, Sid, I can lend you——”</p>
-
-<p>“No, thanks. I’m all right. I don’t need that
-dollar just now, but he’s been owing it since three
-days before the end of last term, and I thought it<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_106"></a>[106]</span>
-was time he paid it. That was all. Maybe he will
-on Wednesday. If he doesn’t I’ll land on his neck!
-Not that I care so much about the dollar and a half,
-but it’s the principle of the——”</p>
-
-<p>“Dollar, you mean, don’t you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Dollar? Dollar and a half. He owed me a dollar
-before.”</p>
-
-<p>“Do you mean that you lent him the half?” exclaimed
-Toby incredulously. Sid looked surprised.</p>
-
-<p>“I told you, didn’t I? That’s what I was kicking
-about.”</p>
-
-<p>“But—but you didn’t have to lend him any more,
-did you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Have to? N-no, I didn’t <em>have</em> to, but what are
-you going to do when a fellow comes at you like
-that? Oh, he will come across some day. I’m not
-worrying.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby laughed. “You’re easy, Sid,” he said. “I
-suppose next Wednesday he will borrow another
-fifty cents from you! If fellows were all like you
-I could be a Rockefeller myself! Here they come!”</p>
-
-<p>Yardley managed to chalk up twelve more points
-in the last two periods and to keep Greenburg High
-from scoring. Greenburg weakened badly toward
-the last, although, like her opponent, she made constant
-changes in her line-up. During the final period<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_107"></a>[107]</span>
-there were moments when the stream of incoming
-substitutes from the Yardley bench was almost unbroken.
-Mr. Lyle used three full elevens that afternoon,
-and then threw in a couple more players just
-for good measure. There were occasional flashes
-of brilliancy on the part of the Blue, but for the
-most part the contest was uninteresting and the
-playing ragged. Greenburg certainly deserved to
-lose, but it is doubtful if Yardley deserved to win.
-However, no one expected much from the team in
-that game, and no one was very critical.</p>
-
-<p>That evening, alone for awhile in Number 12,
-Arnold had gone to a lecture in Assembly Hall,—Toby
-forced himself to face a decision regarding
-football. Earlier in the week he had promised himself
-to quit to-day, but now he discovered that he
-didn’t want to quit. This quarter-back business
-was mighty interesting, he acknowledged. Not that
-he supposed for a minute that he would make good
-on the job: he would never get so that he could
-rival Frick; never, perhaps, equal Rawson; but a
-fellow needed some sort of exercise and football
-provided it. It was really his duty to keep himself
-in training for hockey.</p>
-
-<p>On the other hand, Latin was proving quite as
-difficult as he had predicted, and one or two other<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_108"></a>[108]</span>
-courses promised to claim lots of his time. If he
-really meant to win a scholarship next term he
-couldn’t afford too many distractions. It was easy
-enough to say that football work need not interfere
-with studies, but football work had a way of doing
-that very thing. It wasn’t so much the time spent in
-actual practice or play that counted as it was the
-time a fellow gave to thinking about football. The
-sport had a way of seizing a fellow’s interest to the
-exclusion of all else. And toward the end of the
-season, as the Big Game loomed near, it was just
-about as easy for a football player to give serious
-attention to his studies as it was for a boy with a
-new red sled to display enthusiasm for the woodpile!
-Toby had learned this solely from observation, but
-he knew it was so.</p>
-
-<p>Toby’s father was a boat-builder, and while the
-past season had seen a remarkable revival of the
-business, yet there were four of them in the family,
-and while business had increased so had living costs.
-It behooved Toby to get through the year as economically
-as possible, and a scholarship award of
-perhaps eighty dollars would make a big difference.
-He must do his level best to secure that. That decided,
-had he the right to give the necessary time
-to football? Especially as, after the Christmas recess,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_109"></a>[109]</span>
-hockey would claim him. If it came to choosing
-between the two, he would choose hockey.
-Hockey was Toby’s game. He had proved himself
-in that. In football he might never become more
-than a second-rate player, or even a third. If he
-resolutely gave up football this minute and worked
-hard at his studies until Christmas, he wouldn’t
-have to worry about the time he gave to hockey.
-Hockey didn’t make the demands that football did,
-anyway. Well, then——</p>
-
-<p>Toby frowned and thought, and made up his
-mind and unmade it several times, during the succeeding
-hour. Then Arnold came bustling in and
-what his final decision was Toby never knew. But
-when he awoke Sunday morning he discovered that
-his mind had attended to the matter by itself while
-he slept, and in the afternoon, returning from a
-walk with Arnold and Frank along the river, he
-excused himself and ran into the gymnasium and
-down to the locker-room. When he overtook his
-companions he carried an armful of football togs.</p>
-
-<p>“What—what——” exclaimed Arnold.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ve decided not to play football, after all,” explained
-Toby calmly, “so I thought I might as well
-clear out my locker to-day. There aren’t enough
-of them to go around, you know.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_110"></a>[110]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Oh, you make me tired!” wailed Arnold. “I
-thought that was all settled.”</p>
-
-<p>“It is, now,” responded Toby cheerfully.</p>
-
-<p>“But why?” demanded Arnold impatiently.</p>
-
-<p>Toby explained, but Arnold refused to be satisfied.
-Somewhat to Toby’s relief, Frank interrupted
-soothingly. “Let him alone, Arn. I guess he’s
-right about it. It isn’t as if—well, what I mean is,
-he’s not absolutely necessary, you know. It isn’t
-as if he was on the First Team. The Second’s got
-plenty of material, and Toby’s not fooling himself
-into thinking he’s a wonderful player. They’ll
-worry along without him. No use spoiling a good
-hockey man to make a—a——”</p>
-
-<p>“Punk football man,” supplied Toby pleasantly.
-“You aren’t flattering, Frank, but I guess you’re
-right.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, he isn’t, he’s dead wrong,” said Arnold
-vehemently. “You could be a rattling good football
-player, Toby, a corking one! I know it! And
-now you’re queering everything. You make me
-sick. If you don’t dump those things back in that
-locker the first thing to-morrow morning I’ll—I’ll
-never forgive you, Toby!”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes, you will,” said Toby. “You’re quite
-wrong about me as a football player, Arn. I’m<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_111"></a>[111]</span>
-pretty sure of that. Anyway, as Frank says, they
-don’t need me, and I do need that scholarship.”</p>
-
-<p>“I hope you choke on it,” growled Arnold disgustedly,
-and relapsed into aggrieved silence.</p>
-
-<p>But in spite of the certainty that he had decided
-wisely and rightly, Toby felt a trifle dissatisfied the
-next afternoon, and somewhat at a loose end. He
-determined to devote the first hour and a half after
-his final recitation to hard study, telling himself
-that he would have the room to himself and that
-Whitson would be delightfully quiet and conducive
-to work. Afterwards he would walk over and
-watch First Team practice for awhile. But, although
-he found the quietude and solitude he expected,
-it wasn’t so easy to put his mind on his
-books. The sunlit world outside called loudly, he
-couldn’t get comfortable in the chair and, in spite
-of good intentions, his mind insisted on wandering
-toward the gridiron. But he stuck it out to the
-prescribed moment and then fairly ran downstairs
-and into the late afternoon sunshine, uncomfortably
-conscious that he had spent an hour and a half
-to no purpose. Still, to-morrow he would do better,
-he promised. By the time he had seated himself in
-the grandstand, watching the First Team in a
-spirited practice game, he had recovered his spirits.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_112"></a>[112]</span>
-On the further gridiron the Second was hard at it,
-but Toby decided to stay away from that quarter
-to-day. Grover Beech might say unpleasant things
-about “quitters,” and while Toby’s conscience was
-quite clear, he realized that the Second Team captain
-would have his own point of view. But although
-he managed to evade Beech for the time, a
-meeting was inevitable, and it occurred after supper
-that evening. They both left their tables at
-the same moment and came together at the door.
-Beech looked a trifle huffy.</p>
-
-<p>“What’s the stupendous idea, Tucker?” he demanded.
-“You know we practice on Mondays just
-like any other day.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I—Didn’t Gyp tell you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Gyp? Yes, he said something about your not
-reporting to-day, but that didn’t mean anything to
-me. What’s the scheme, old man?”</p>
-
-<p>Toby explained, not very eloquently because
-Beech’s expression became momentarily more and
-more disapproving. Once or twice the captain
-uttered a dry “Huh!” or gestured impatience, but
-he heard Toby through. Then, however, he broke
-out with force and emphasis. Toby, backed up
-against the long hatrack, was aware of the curious
-looks bent on him by those who passed, and even<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_113"></a>[113]</span>
-read sympathy in some glances. Doubtless Beech’s
-attitude looked rather threatening!</p>
-
-<p>“You poor fish!” said the captain pityingly.
-“Hasn’t any one ever told you about duty? What
-do you think you are, anyway? A—a real, sure-enough
-Person? You’re not, Tucker my lad, you’re
-just a simple little cog in the Wheel of Progress.
-You’re not at all important as an individual. You’re
-merely an entity. Now——”</p>
-
-<p>“Hold on! I’m not sure I ought to let you call
-me that!”</p>
-
-<p>“Shut up! I’ll call you worse in a minute, maybe
-a microbe or a protoplasm. Look here, Tucker,
-joking aside, you can’t do this, you know. Every
-fellow has a duty to the School——”</p>
-
-<p>“I know, and every fellow has a duty to himself,
-Beech. I need that scholarship——”</p>
-
-<p>“Get it! I’m not objecting, my son! But don’t
-throw the team down to do it. Shucks, you can
-play football for a month or six weeks longer without
-losing the scholarship! Come on, Tucker, don’t
-be a worm!”</p>
-
-<p>“But—but what difference does it make?”
-pleaded Toby. “I’m no football wonder. You’ve
-got half a dozen fellows to fill in for me. It isn’t
-like I was any account, Beech!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_114"></a>[114]</span></p>
-
-<p>“What are you doing? Fishing for compliments?
-Come on and quit your kidding! Do you
-suppose Burtis would have put you with the quarters
-if he hadn’t seen that you had the stuff in
-you?”</p>
-
-<p>“But I haven’t! I can’t play quarter-back for a
-cent, Beech, honest! Besides, there’s Frick and
-Rawson and Stair——”</p>
-
-<p>“Listen, Tucker, I know who we’ve got just as
-well as you do. Those fellows are all right, but
-not one of them has any better chance of copping
-the job than you have. And we want the best fellow
-to get it. So you come on back to-morrow,
-Tucker my lad, and be properly ashamed of yourself.
-And don’t let’s have any more talk about
-scholarships and things. If you can’t play a little
-football and keep your end up in classes you’re
-less of a man than I thought you were. And that’s
-that!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I’ll see,” answered Toby dubiously. “It’s
-all well enough——”</p>
-
-<p>“You’ll see nothing,” said Beech sternly. “You’ll
-be on the field to-morrow at three-fifteen dressed to
-play. By the way, where’d you get hold of that
-chap Tubbs?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I just happened to run across him. He<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_115"></a>[115]</span>
-was having sort of a poor time of it and I thought
-if I could get him interested in something he might
-pull himself together.” Toby was rather apologetic.
-“He didn’t want to do it and I was afraid he
-wouldn’t stick it long.”</p>
-
-<p>“How do you mean, wouldn’t stick it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, he’s quit, hasn’t he? He told me Saturday
-he was going to.”</p>
-
-<p>“He was out to-day all right. Shucks, he isn’t
-going to quit. He’s stringing you. He’s liking it
-well enough now, and unless I miss my guess he’s
-going to make a few of our bunch sit up and take
-notice. The boy’s a natural-born end! Well, see
-you to-morrow, old man. So long!”</p>
-
-<p>George Tubb a “natural-born end”! Toby forgot
-for the moment the complication just introduced
-into his own affairs in surprise over Beech’s appraisal
-of Tubb. That the latter would make good on the
-gridiron Toby had never for an instant believed. He
-had only hoped that the dissatisfied youth would find
-in football a new and sufficient interest to reconcile
-him to the school and, perhaps, a means of making
-friends. Well, he was certainly quite as pleased as
-he was surprised! In view of what Beech had just
-told him, however, he wondered why Tubb had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_116"></a>[116]</span>
-threatened only two days ago to quit; and, still
-wondering, he kept on to the third floor instead of
-stopping at the second and knocked at the door of
-Number 31.</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_117"></a>[117]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI<br />
-<small>TOM FANNING, OPTIMIST</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">Only Horace Ramsey was at home when
-Toby entered Number 31. Ramsey appeared
-very glad to see the visitor, and
-he was quite fussed-up during the process of getting
-Toby comfortably seated. The room was one of
-the better ones on the third floor, and one of the
-occupants, probably Ramsey, had added to the
-scanty equipment supplied by the school. Although
-the evening had turned decidedly cool, both windows
-were wide open, and it was not until Toby
-had glanced at them a bit uneasily several times
-that Ramsey took the hint.</p>
-
-<p>“It is sort of cold in here, I guess,” he said, as
-he closed the windows. “I’m used to a cold room,
-though. Plenty of fresh air is what I like. Mr.
-Bendix says you can’t have too much of it. George
-doesn’t like it much, though, and we scrap a good
-deal about having the windows open.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_118"></a>[118]</span></p>
-
-<p>“George? Oh, you mean Tubb. How are you
-and he getting on now? Hitting it off any better?”</p>
-
-<p>Horace Ramsey smiled. “Oh, yes, we get on all
-right. He’s a cranky chap, though. I have to
-handle him carefully. He gets the most awful
-grouches you ever saw. Gets positively ugly and
-hates himself. Still, he’s been some better the last
-few days.” Ramsey chuckled. “Guess I have, too.
-At first I used to let go of my temper and—well, you
-found us at it one night. Remember? Now I just
-let him growl and he gets over it after a bit. He’s
-really not a bad sort when you get to know him.”</p>
-
-<p>“I thought I might find him in,” explained Toby.
-Then a faint expression of disappointment on the
-other’s face made him add: “And then I wanted
-to see how you were getting on, too, Ramsey. You’re
-looking pretty fit. Been playing much tennis?”</p>
-
-<p>“Every day. A fellow named Lingard, a Fourth
-Class fellow, and I have been at it a lot. Don’t
-know if you know him, Tucker. Sort of a lanky
-chap, with——”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, I know Tommy. Didn’t know he was a
-tennis player, though.”</p>
-
-<p>“He isn’t,” laughed Ramsey. “At least, not much
-of one. But neither am I just now, and I sort of
-like to play with a chap I can lick now and then.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_119"></a>[119]</span>
-Maybe it isn’t good practice, though. There’s a
-fellow named Colcord who gave me a couple of
-sets this afternoon. He’s pretty good at it. Beat
-me both sets, 6 to 3. I’d like to take you on again,
-Tucker. I guess I could give you a better fight
-now that I’ve had some practice. Mr. Bendix says
-it’ll take several weeks to get my muscles loosened
-up.”</p>
-
-<p>“I dare say. Had much trouble with your heart
-lately?”</p>
-
-<p>“N-no, very little. I get out of breath pretty
-easily, but Mr. Bendix says that’s because I’m
-carrying too much weight. Maybe my heart’s all
-right after all, just as he says it is. He sort of—what
-I mean is, you can’t help believing what he
-says, can you? He’s supposed to know a lot about
-physical training and—and all that, isn’t he?” Toby
-nodded assent. “I like him a lot, anyway, and I’m
-doing just what he tells me, even to nearly freezing
-in here with the windows open.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby laughed. “Thought you said you were used
-to cold rooms, Ramsey!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I—I meant I was getting used to them,”
-answered the other, grinning.</p>
-
-<p>“Tubb is still with the Second Team, I hear,”
-said Toby.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_120"></a>[120]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Yes. That reminds me! He was quite excited
-this afternoon because you weren’t on the field.
-Don’t know what business it is of his, but he kept
-chewing the rag about it.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, I—I cut practice to-day. Fact is, I——”
-Then he stopped. He had been about to add that
-he was through with football for the season, but he
-suddenly realized that it wasn’t true, that to-morrow
-would find him back again. “How’s Tubb getting
-on?” he asked instead.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, pretty well, I guess. He hasn’t said so, but
-when he doesn’t growl about a thing I know it’s all
-right. Last week he kept telling how hard they
-made him work and saying he was going to quit,
-but he’s shut up about it lately.”</p>
-
-<p>A few minutes afterward, going down to the
-floor below, Toby shook his head dubiously. “It’s
-funny the way I make up my mind to things lately
-without knowing it. When I went upstairs I
-thought I was going to be firm with Beech and stay
-out of it. Then, first thing I knew, I’d decided to
-keep on! Wonder if there’s something wrong with
-my bean!”</p>
-
-<p>Back in Number 12, Toby found a scrawl from
-Arnold bidding him follow to Frank’s room in
-Clarke, but he crumpled it up and, after a moment’s<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_121"></a>[121]</span>
-reflection, dropped it in the waste-basket and settled
-himself at the table. He got in some good licks of
-study that evening and was annoyingly superior and
-virtuous when Arnold returned at bedtime.</p>
-
-<p>The next afternoon Toby took his togs back to
-the gymnasium. Fortunately, although he had
-given up his locker, no one had secured it. If
-Coach Burtis knew of his defection the day before
-he made no sign. Grover Beech, however, nodded
-commendingly, and, or so Toby thought, Roy Frick,
-at present the most promising of the quarter-backs,
-viewed his return with a noticeable lack of cordiality.
-For several afternoons Toby toiled and
-drudged willingly and contentedly. Mr. Burtis
-was allowing but three scrimmages a week, and in
-none of them did Toby appear. The fact puzzled
-the boy considerably, but he kept his puzzlement to
-himself. Even Bird, who could not be considered
-first-class quarter-back material by any stretch of
-imagination, got in for a few minutes in each practice
-game. Toby invariably retired to the bench
-when the line-up came and, blanket-swathed,
-watched and wondered throughout the ten or fifteen
-minute periods. On one such occasion he found a
-seat beside George Tubb. He and George had met
-and spoken before, but only briefly. To-day Toby<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_122"></a>[122]</span>
-viewed George with real surprise. Seen at close
-quarters, the younger fellow showed the results of
-a week of football work very plainly. He had a
-much better color, looked several pounds thinner—and
-considerably harder—and had lost some of the
-discontent usually so eloquently expressed by his
-countenance. But there was plenty of the old George
-W. Tubb left, as Toby soon discovered.</p>
-
-<p>“They’ve got me playing end,” said George. “It’s
-a rotten position. I told that big guy with the
-swelled head that I wanted——”</p>
-
-<p>“Meaning the coach?” asked Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“Sure! I told him I was a half-back, but he
-thinks he knows it all.”</p>
-
-<p>“Too bad,” commented Toby innocently, “because,
-of course, a fellow can’t do good work out
-of his right position. I suppose you’re making
-rather a mess of end, Tubb.”</p>
-
-<p>“Who says that?” demanded George, with a
-scowl.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, no one. I just thought, from what you
-said——”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I guess I’m doing as well as Connell; and
-he’s been playing two years at it. But this business
-doesn’t get a fellow anywhere. What’s it
-amount to, anyway? They say we’ll play a couple<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_123"></a>[123]</span>
-of dozen games with the First and run up against
-two or three bum teams around here, and then it’s
-all over, and the First Team gets the glory. Maybe
-I’ll stick it out awhile longer, but life’s too short to
-spend a month and a half at this sort of stuff.”</p>
-
-<p>He glanced sidewise at Toby as he finished, and
-Toby caught the glance and understood. George
-had no intention of quitting, and never had had
-since the first day! What he wanted was Toby to
-ask him not to! Toby suppressed a smile.</p>
-
-<p>“I wouldn’t do that, Tubb,” he said earnestly.
-“I—I wish you wouldn’t. You see, I have a hunch
-that you’ve got in you to make a pretty good player,
-and—well, I wish you’d give yourself a fair chance.
-As a favor to me, Tubb, I wish you’d try to stick
-it out.”</p>
-
-<p>George growled and scowled, but Toby didn’t
-miss the look of satisfaction that flickered for an
-instant in his eyes. After a moment of weighty
-hesitation George sighed wearily. “Well, I guess
-another week or two won’t hurt me,” he said ungraciously.
-“I’ll stick around until I get Connell’s
-number, anyway. You got me into this, Tucker,
-and——” George stopped abruptly, leaped to his
-feet and dropped his blanket. “I’ve got to go in!
-See you later!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_124"></a>[124]</span></p>
-
-<p>Then he legged it to where Coach Burtis was
-beckoning, leaving Toby grinning broadly. “He’s
-just the biggest kind of a kid,” thought Toby.
-“Wants friendship and hasn’t the slightest idea how
-to get it!”</p>
-
-<p>But if Toby was allowed no opportunity to
-achieve glory that week, at least none begrudged
-him hard work. He was allowed to labor to his
-heart’s content. Nay, he was urged to! Coach
-Burtis seemed to be distinctly unhappy if Toby
-happened on a moment’s idleness during practice
-time, and he or Captain Beech was forever at hand
-to suggest a new activity. Toby got to hate the
-tackling dummy with a deep and bitter hatred. He
-told Arnold he couldn’t enjoy his meals any longer
-because his mouth was always filled with dirt.
-Arnold advised him to close his mouth when he
-did his tackling.</p>
-
-<p>For the First Team, on which Arnold was alternating
-with Bates at right half-back, life had become
-real and earnest. Coach Lyle had made a
-wholesale cut in the squad and fellows who were
-“up” in football affairs professed themselves already
-able to tell you what the line-up would be in
-the final game of the season with Broadwood. And
-a good many did tell—if you’d listen. Frank Lamson<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_125"></a>[125]</span>
-was also trying for a half-back position, but
-Frank’s chances were not considered brilliant. At
-least, though, he survived the cut, and when, on
-Saturday, the team played its second game, with
-Tyron School, Frank displaced Roover in the last
-quarter and sent his stock up tremendously by a
-slashing fourteen-yard run that netted Yardley’s last
-score. Toby saw the final half of the game from
-the bleachers and yelled like a Comanche when
-Frank fairly smashed his way through the Tyron
-backs and went over the line near the corner of the
-field with two of the enemy clinging to him like
-limpets. Yardley’s work showed the effect of a
-week’s hard practice and some indication of promise.
-Teamwork was totally lacking, however, and
-it was individual brilliancy that ran the score up to
-29 points. Curran, at quarter-back, and Noyes,
-who substituted for him, handled the team well.
-On the whole, although Tyron had managed to secure
-6 points by two easy field-goals, Yardley Hall
-was satisfied with her team’s showing, and felt that
-there was reason to expect a successful season. As,
-however, October was still but a few days old, the
-conclusion may have been a trifle premature.</p>
-
-<p>Captain Fanning, naturally optimistic, viewed the
-future very cheerfully indeed that evening. He was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_126"></a>[126]</span>
-a tall, fine-looking chap, was Tom, and immensely
-popular. If he had any discernible fault it was that
-popularity meant a little too much to him, that he
-was a bit too dependent on the goodwill of his fellows.
-Criticism didn’t agree with Tom. It didn’t
-make him angry, but it hurt his feelings. On the
-other hand, praise was meat and drink to him, and
-if you wanted to hear him purr you had only to
-stroke him. But every one liked him, the juniors
-in Merle Hall, the First Class fellows in Dudley
-and the faculty members as well. And he was a
-really remarkable football player, as he had proved
-last season. His more ardent admirers went so far
-as to believe that so long as Tom Fanning played
-left tackle it didn’t matter much who else was on
-that side of center. Like most brilliant players,
-though, he was better offensively than defensively.
-As a captain Tom had yet to be proved, for neither
-personal popularity nor individual ability necessarily
-insures leadership. Tom believed very thoroughly
-in himself, however, and if any one held
-doubts as to his fitness for the captaincy that person
-was not Tom.</p>
-
-<p>To-night, tilted back in a chair against Toby’s
-bed, his long legs stretched before him, his hands in
-his trousers pockets, and a contented smile on his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_127"></a>[127]</span>
-good-looking countenance, Tom was doing his own
-stroking. “Really, Arnold,” he was saying, “we’ve
-got a ripping lot of fellows this year, now haven’t
-we? Take the line from end to end, you can’t beat
-it! I don’t care whether Candee or Orlie Simpson
-plays center or whether Jim Rose or Twining plays
-left guard. Any way you look at it it’s a corking
-line. That’s the beauty of having really good substitutes.
-As for the back-field, why, with you and
-Larry and Roover and Curran—or Noyes, for that
-matter—there won’t be a better one in this corner of
-the world this fall!”</p>
-
-<p>“Say, Tom, how do you get that way?” asked
-Arnold, who was struggling into a clean collar.
-“The team’s all right, old dear, but we haven’t won
-the Broadwood game quite yet. To listen to you a
-fellow would think we’d just hung the ball in the
-Trophy Room!”</p>
-
-<p>Tom laughed good-naturedly. “Well, I’ve picked
-out a place for it, Arn! Oh, we’ll have our little
-setbacks and we’ll lose a game or two one way or
-another, but that isn’t troubling me any. Why——”</p>
-
-<p>“All right, but don’t talk like that so the fellows
-can hear you,” protested Arnold, more than half
-serious. “The worst thing that can happen to a
-team is for it to get the happy, confident feeling.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_128"></a>[128]</span>
-Just as soon as it does it gets a silly grin on its
-face—or faces, rather—and dies in its tracks. I’d
-like it better if you’d cultivate a fine grouch, Tom.”</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe I shall later, but you can’t make me
-grouchy to-night. I tell you, Arn, we showed what
-we had to-day. Take the team as it played this
-afternoon and teach it to work together and you’ve
-got a real machine, son. And Broadwood’ll know
-it some day!”</p>
-
-<p>“I know. We have got some good players, and
-that’s no dream, but just at present it’s too much
-of an all-star aggregation to make a hit with me.
-There’s a heap of work ahead of us, old dear, before
-we get to be a real football team, and don’t you
-forget that for a little minute!”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, you’re a regular Calamity Jane,” jeered
-Tom. “Come on, or we’ll be late. Where’s Tucker?
-Isn’t he coming?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, he will be here in a minute, I guess. And
-Frank’s going, too.”</p>
-
-<p>“Lamson?” Tom’s brow clouded for an instant.
-“Say, Arn, he made a nifty touchdown to-day,
-didn’t he?”</p>
-
-<p>“I thought so. But you needn’t cry about it.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m not. I was only wondering—You know, to
-my mind, Morris Roover’s the right chap there, Arn.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_129"></a>[129]</span>
-Now suppose Lamson keeps on as he did this afternoon,
-eh?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, he will get the place, won’t he? You
-want the best man there, don’t you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Rather! But Roover’s tried pretty hard for it.
-I mean, I’d be sorry if he lost out. He had hard
-luck last fall, you know. Got sick in the middle of
-the season and didn’t even get his letter. I suppose
-he’s hoping to make good this year.”</p>
-
-<p>“What of it? He’s got another year after this.
-The trouble with you, Tom, is that you can’t forget
-your friendships on the gridiron. It won’t do, believe
-me. Friendship ceases at three-fifteen, or it
-ought to, when you’re captain. If it wasn’t for Mr.
-Lyle you’d have Sim Clarke playing end and Snow
-at guard and—and all the rest of your cronies—including
-me—on the team, and it would be a bum
-outfit. Friendship’s no good when it comes to picking
-a team, Tom.”</p>
-
-<p>“Nonsense!” retorted the other. He didn’t seem
-displeased, though. “Of course I’d like to have my
-friends on the team; any fellow would; but they
-won’t get any favoritism from me.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, no, none at all!” answered Arnold,
-buttoning his vest. “Look here, old dear, if I
-ever suspect that you’re trying to put me across<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_130"></a>[130]</span>
-because I’m a friend I’ll quit the team cold!”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, rot! You know perfectly well that you
-and Bates are the best we have for the position, and
-as far as I’m concerned I don’t care which of you
-gets it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Stick to that and all will be well! What time
-have you got? I wonder what’s happened to Frank
-and——”</p>
-
-<p>Toby’s appearance interrupted him and a minute
-later they were on their way, picking up Frank
-Lamson outside. They were going to the movies
-in Greenburg, the larger town across the river.
-There was a small moving picture theater in Wissining,
-no more than half a mile from school, that
-was well patronized by Yardley, but in Greenburg
-there were three of them to choose from, and to-night
-the boys had secured leave for the whole evening
-and so had plenty of time to make the longer
-journey. Besides, at Greenburg you got two pictures
-and listened to real music from an organ,
-while at the local house your entertainment was
-over in an hour and the piano was very tin-panny.
-Tom Fanning ranged beside Toby on the way down
-the hill and Arnold and Frank followed. Tom was
-still full of football and optimism, and Toby heard
-a good deal about the team’s wonderful prospects<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_131"></a>[131]</span>
-and didn’t have to do any of the talking. By the
-time the bridge was reached, however, Tom had
-worked off some of his enthusiasm and inquired
-about Toby’s fortunes.</p>
-
-<p>“Arn says he finally persuaded you to try for the
-Second,” he said. “Like it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, I like it very well,” answered Toby. “Only
-I can’t seem to take it as seriously as most of the
-fellows. Ought I to, Fanning? What I mean is,
-just how important is playing football on the Second
-Team? I wanted to quit last week and Arnold
-had a fit and Grover Beech read the riot act to me.
-I thought football, especially Second Team football,
-was a lark, but I’m beginning to think that
-it’s not!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I suppose we do take football rather too
-seriously,” replied Tom leniently. “But, hang it,
-Tucker, if you’re going to do a thing why not do
-it well? Why not put your whole heart into it? Of
-course, the Second Team isn’t as important as the
-First, but it’s just as well for the fellows who play
-on it to think it is. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t
-work so hard and we wouldn’t turn out such a good
-Second Team. And, after all, a good Second is
-important, because it gives us practice.”</p>
-
-<p>“When do you begin playing us?” asked Toby.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_132"></a>[132]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Next week. Tuesday, probably. What are you
-trying for?”</p>
-
-<p>“Quarter. Sounds conceited, doesn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not a bit! Why? A quarter-back isn’t any
-better than a guard or an end, is he? It takes just
-as much ability to play one position well as it does
-another.”</p>
-
-<p>“Y-yes, I suppose so, but—it seems to me a fellow’s
-got to know a whole lot in order to run the
-team right.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes, he has. But it comes down to knowing
-a few plays and when to call for them, and remembering
-your signals. After all, it’s the captain
-that’s the general. Half the time a quarter doesn’t
-get much chance to boss the thing. The coach maps
-the game out beforehand, the captain holds the reins
-and the quarter-back does the yelling.” Tom
-laughed. “Anyway, that’s pretty close to it, Tucker.”</p>
-
-<p>“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Toby said in relieved
-tones. “I was sort of scared, you see;
-thought I might have to run the whole business if
-I happened to get put in some time. I’d make rather
-a mess of it if I did, I guess!”</p>
-
-<p>“Not you, Tucker. You’re rather the type to
-make good, I’d say. I hope you get the place.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_133"></a>[133]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Thanks,” answered Toby, dubiously. “You
-mean kindly, no doubt, but I guess I’d just as lief
-some one else got it. Frick has it now and I dare
-say he will keep it. He will so far as I’m concerned!”</p>
-
-<p>“You don’t seem to have a very high notion of
-your ability,” laughed Tom. “Don’t be too humble,
-Tucker, or folks will begin to think the way you
-talk. And, look here, there’ll be a chance for you
-on the First next year, for both Curran and Noyes
-will be gone, and the rest of the lot aren’t very
-promising. So just you keep going, Tucker.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I’ll keep going all right,” replied Toby
-sadly. “They won’t let me do anything else. They’re
-always picking on me.”</p>
-
-<p>“Who?”</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Burtis and Beech. They sit up together
-until daylight finding stunts for me to do the next
-day!”</p>
-
-<p>“Sounds to me,” said Tom thoughtfully, “as if
-you were better than you make yourself out, old
-man. Or else you imagine things.”</p>
-
-<p>“Let’s say the last guess is right,” laughed Toby.</p>
-
-<p>They visited two theaters before they found one
-whose bill promised the sort of entertainment they
-wanted, and found seats just before the house darkened.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_134"></a>[134]</span>
-During the announcement of coming attractions
-some one tapped Toby on the shoulder and he
-looked around in the half-gloom and saw Horace
-Ramsey seated behind him in company with George
-Tubb. Horace was evidently pleased when Toby
-recognized him and spoke to him, but George’s only
-response to Toby’s whispered greeting was a nod
-and a scowl.</p>
-
-<p>Going homeward, two hours later, the quartet
-grew to a round dozen as other Yardley boys joined
-it, and Arnold observed that maybe it was just as
-well there were plenty of them as the “town thugs,”
-as he called them, had been getting “fresh” lately.
-“Casement and another chap were coming back the
-other night and got into a fine old scrap with a
-gang of the toughs,” he explained. “They had to
-beat it finally. Loring got a beautiful black eye out
-of it. He says there were four of them against him
-and the other chap. Hence the retreat.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s something new, isn’t it?” asked a boy on
-the other side of Arnold. “We never used to have
-any trouble with the town fellows.”</p>
-
-<p>“They’re chaps from the new mill they built last
-year, I believe. Rather a tough lot, I guess. They’ll
-get all they want, though, if they keep on. Wouldn’t
-be a bad thing for some of them to turn up now and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_135"></a>[135]</span>
-try to start something,” Arnold chuckled. “They
-won’t, though, when they see the size of our party.”
-And, although their progress out of Greenburg was
-anything but quiet, none disputed their way.</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_136"></a>[136]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII<br />
-<small>FIRST TEAM VS. SECOND</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class="cap">The Second Team started its training table
-Monday. The First had done so a week
-earlier. The tables, each accommodating
-eighteen persons, occupied the two farther corners
-of the dining-hall. That of the First Team was
-given a certain degree of privacy by two oak screens
-similar to the one that stood before the door leading
-to the pantry, but the Second Team consumed its
-meals in full view of the world. Joining the training
-table, Toby discovered, added no luxuries to
-your menu. Rather, it did quite otherwise, for
-pastry and puddings, save for one or two very simple
-concoctions, were sternly barred. You got rather
-more beef and lamb—too underdone to please Toby—and
-eggs were a drug on the market. Potatoes
-were served sparingly and only in the baked condition.
-On the whole, there was a notable monotony
-to the training table fare, but as the fellows were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_137"></a>[137]</span>
-generally extremely hungry that didn’t trouble them
-greatly.</p>
-
-<p>Toby’s presence at the Second Team board was
-somewhat of a surprise to Toby, since, as there were
-places for only seventeen players,—Coach Burtis
-sat at the head of the table,—it seemed to him that
-he was displacing more deserving talent. Why he
-should be there and Stair and Bird not there, was a
-conundrum, a conundrum that was partly answered
-for him that Monday afternoon.</p>
-
-<p>“You’re on B Team, Tucker,” announced Mr.
-Burtis when, at four o’clock, the players were called
-back to the bench. “Show me what you’ve learned
-the last week. You’ll have Lippman at half and I
-want you to use him whenever you can. Play him
-hard. He will stand it. And don’t neglect your
-kicking game just because your punters aren’t the
-best. The only way for them to learn is to have it
-to do. Keep to simple plays; B Team doesn’t know
-anything complicated; and speed it up all you know
-how.”</p>
-
-<p>“Y-yes, sir,” agreed Toby. Then he shed his
-blanket and wondered whether he had learned anything
-the last week, and if he had what it was!
-However, it wouldn’t do to let either the coach or
-the players guess the trepidation he felt, and so he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_138"></a>[138]</span>
-pulled on his head-guard quite snappily and limbered
-up his legs, as, he judged, was the approved
-thing to do, and looked as smiling and care-free as
-possible. Then the two teams trotted out, A with
-the ball, and Gyp blew a whistle and his troubles
-had begun.</p>
-
-<p>But, after all, the troubles weren’t so many, nor
-so formidable. He made mistakes, and he shared in
-a perfectly ghastly fumble on A’s twenty-six yards,
-and twice he got his signals so badly mixed that the
-whole team howled at him. But, on the other hand,
-he put vim into his fellows and followed the coach’s
-directions regarding Lippman and the kicking game
-and the use of simple plays, and before the period
-had ended he had the exquisite pleasure of watching
-the pigskin skin the enemy’s cross-bar for a three-point
-tally. He could have wept tears of joy on
-Crawford’s neck for that thirty-yard drop-kick, and
-A Team’s sullen resentment was an added delight.
-But B had to pay for her cheekiness. Already A
-had scored a touchdown, and now, bitterly resentful,
-she set to work to wreak vengeance. And she
-did it finally, for three long runs by Nelson and
-White took the ball back to B’s thirty-five yards
-and White plugged along for another down through
-a crumbling right side in spite of Toby’s shrill exhortations,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_139"></a>[139]</span>
-and Stover banged into Sid Creel, at
-center, and piled through to the eighteen. Toby
-was very glad when time was called for Sid’s recovery,
-for B was on the run and becoming more
-disorganized each moment. He spent a precious
-two minutes ranging the line and “talking Dutch,”
-and when Sid, looking vague and dizzy, shuffled
-into his position again there was a perceptible stiffening
-of the defense. But it couldn’t last against
-A’s battering-ram tactics, and presently it was
-crumbling again. Short gains but steady, and B
-was on her last white line, and it was second down
-and every one was shouting or grunting. Toby
-gritted his teeth and danced about and hurled defiance
-across the bent backs before him, all the time
-trying with the intensity of despair to guess the play
-that was coming. He did guess, but he guessed
-wrong, and Nelson shot unexpectedly outside right
-tackle, straight for the center of the goal, and the
-only satisfaction Toby got was in sitting on Nelson’s
-head after he had been pulled down by Crawford.
-Bowen grinned miserably, and every B Team
-fellow was very, very careful not so much as to look
-at him; for Bowen was right tackle and had been
-most ingloriously eliminated. After that the horn
-squawked and the half was over.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_140"></a>[140]</span></p>
-
-<p>Toby and several others who had played through
-the whole twelve minutes were dismissed to the
-showers, although all would have preferred staying
-and watching the second half. Instead, they
-argued hotly all the way up to the gymnasium—the
-two teams being very equally represented—and
-still argued, though with diminished heat, while the
-showers hissed. Toby was secretly rather well satisfied
-with his performance that afternoon until,
-later, he learned that B Team, under Roy Frick’s
-generalship, had actually scored a touchdown in the
-last period of play!</p>
-
-<p>On Tuesday, after a half-hour of light practice,
-the Second trotted over to the First Team field and,
-before a large and interested audience, was badly
-mauled and beaten. Frick and Rawson played quarter
-through two twelve-minute halves, and Toby
-and Stair—Bird, it seemed, had retired to private
-life—sat on the bench and watched and worried,
-trying to believe that things would have gone no
-better for the Second if they had taken part. Second
-used most of her substitutes in a vain effort to
-stave off, not defeat, for that was inevitable, but
-dishonor, and could make nothing of it. First Team
-piled up the scores with a merciless and monotonous<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_141"></a>[141]</span>
-succession and the audience yawned and drifted
-away.</p>
-
-<p>“What’s that?” asked Lou Stair drearily.
-“Twenty-three?”</p>
-
-<p>“Twenty-six,” answered Toby glumly.</p>
-
-<p>“Gee-jiminy-gosh!” groaned Stair. “Say, what’s
-the matter with the Second, anyway? What’s got
-into ’em, Tucker! Look at Smith, will you? Why
-doesn’t he get down? Why doesn’t Frick get after
-him? He thinks he’s a skyscraper! And there
-goes Dawson off-side again! Gee, our bunch is
-playing like sand-lot kids! Well, he got away with
-it, and that’s something!”</p>
-
-<p>“What of it?” asked Toby dully. “We didn’t
-make enough to plant a row of beans on! That’s
-third. White’ll have to punt.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yeah, as much as ten yards!” jeered Stair.
-“What’d I tell you? Guess he’s got a friend on the
-side-line, the way he kicked the ball there! Well,
-here’s where First scores again!”</p>
-
-<p>And presently First did that very thing, Toby’s
-gloom being slightly relieved by the fact that it
-was Arnold who took the ball over by a slashing
-run from the Second’s eighteen yards. Gloom enveloped
-the whole blanketed line of watchers that
-second half, for they had been doing a good deal<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_142"></a>[142]</span>
-of talking as to what was to happen to the First
-Team when they tried conclusions. In fact, Second
-had even gone so far as to hint that the real reason
-Coach Lyle hadn’t let his team face the Second
-before was his fear of a disastrous defeat. Toby
-wondered how Coach Burtis, pacing tranquilly to
-and fro along the side-line, his hands buried in his
-trousers pockets, could maintain his expression of
-unconcern in the face of such direful happenings!
-Toby would have felt a heap better if Mr. Burtis
-had scowled or kicked at a pebble or shown distress
-in some other manner. The coach’s unruffled demeanor
-seemed to Toby to smack of treason! He
-was very glad when that farcical game came to an
-end with a final score of 33 to 0.</p>
-
-<p>Second, fagged, disheveled, outraged, climbed a
-weary path to the gymnasium, muttering threats of
-vengeance; hearing which Coach Burtis smiled a
-secret smile of satisfaction. Toby felt quite disgraced
-until the lapse of an hour or two brought
-a realization of the fact that such things had happened
-before and would happen again, and that
-no one took them very seriously. At supper Mr.
-Burtis ate quite as much as usual and with as much
-enjoyment, and talked and jested in his accustomed
-manner; which encouraged Toby to satisfy a really<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_143"></a>[143]</span>
-ravenous hunger. After a steak and a baked potato
-and the usual trimmings he found that he could
-view the afternoon’s Waterloo with equanimity.
-There was, he reflected, another day coming!</p>
-
-<p>Wednesday found Toby learning A Team signals,
-his allegiance transferred to that squad by order
-of the coach. In the scrimmage Rawson led B
-Team and Toby adorned the bench until near the
-end of the second half. Then Frick came out and
-Toby went in and received an evil and portentous
-wink from Sid Creel. That wink said very plainly:
-“You wait till I get at you, you renegade!”
-Just at first it was a bit disconcerting to find himself
-slamming into his former teammates and to realize
-that they not only no longer loved him but were
-eager to grind his face in the earth and otherwise
-degrade him! Before the game was over, though,
-he had very effectually forgotten the old ties and
-was glorying in every foot of territory conquered
-by A Team. It was remarkable what a healthy
-antagonism existed between the two squads. Before
-the scrimmage they were all Second Team fellows,
-and afterwards, in the locker-room, they fraternized
-nicely, but while the game lasted they were
-enemies and aliens, and neither side asked quarter.
-Toby, during a busy six or seven minutes of play<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_144"></a>[144]</span>
-that afternoon, was rather rudely handled by his
-former comrades, and made his way up the hill
-with a ruddy nose and several assorted contusions.
-But he had the satisfaction of a touchdown and
-a brief word of commendation from Coach Burtis;
-and nothing else much mattered.</p>
-
-<p>Thursday they went against the First again and,
-while they were once more decisively trimmed, they
-made a far better showing. Toby got in for the
-whole of the second half and, after recovering from
-a bad attack of stage fright, gave a fairly good account
-of himself. Toby wasn’t one to seek personal
-glory, and there were times when he might have
-taken the ball himself and didn’t. He did get off
-one good twenty-yard sprint with the pigskin
-clasped in the cradle of his elbow, and got a hearty
-thump on his back from Arnold as he trotted by
-that member of the enemy forces and a rousing
-acclaim from the stands. But for the rest Toby
-stayed modestly in position, letting Nelson and
-White and, less frequently, Stover, perform the
-back-field stunts—or try to. First Team was fast
-rounding into a hard-working, aggressive, snappy
-organization, and facing her was no child’s play.
-That the Second held her to four scores that day,
-and credited herself with a field-goal, speaks well<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_145"></a>[145]</span>
-for Coach Burtis’ charges. Second didn’t consider
-that she had actually wiped out the stigma of Tuesday’s
-overwhelming defeat, but she derived a lot
-of comfort from her showing, and White, whose
-capable foot had secured that goal from the field,
-was a twenty-four hour hero. It was even whispered
-that Coach Lyle had been seen looking hard
-at White and that the latter’s transfer to the First
-Team was inevitable. Which, while it may have
-brought pleasant anticipations to the Second Team
-while full-back, filled the rest of the fellows with
-gloomy forebodings.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s the way they do,” lamented Farquhar,
-the rangy left tackle. “Just as soon as we get a
-fellow so’s he’s some use to us they nab him for
-the First. What’s the use of that? If they want
-us to give ’em good practice they ought to let us
-have some decent players. But they don’t. Last
-year they swiped three of our fellows two weeks
-before the Broadwood game. They make me very
-weary!”</p>
-
-<p>However, it seemed that Second’s fears might be
-groundless, for Friday found White still with them,
-and he was still with them the following day when
-the First went up against Forest Hill School.</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_146"></a>[146]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII<br />
-<small>TEAM-MATES FALL OUT</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">It was a brute of a day, with a chilling, drizzling
-rain and a sodden, sloppy field. Toby
-had been out of sorts since the moment of his
-awakening to a dimly-lighted room and the sound
-of dripping eaves. He had pecked at his breakfast,
-more than usually averse to the ruddiness of
-his steak and willing to exchange a whole pitcher
-of milk for one heartening cup of hot coffee. Recitations
-went badly. There was an evident listlessness
-on the part of the students and a consequent
-lack of sympathy on the part of the instructors. In
-Latin Toby made a horrid mess of things, his brain
-having apparently forgotten to function, and
-“Chawles,” as Mr. Coburn was known among the
-boys, became quite testy and rendered a lengthy
-oration on the shortcomings of the class, which,
-while intended for the entire assemblage, was aimed
-directly at Toby. I mention these incidents that
-you may better understand what happened in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_147"></a>[147]</span>
-afternoon when the Second Team stood rather
-morosely around in the drizzle and waited for practice
-to start and Toby, hands rolled in his sweater,
-glowered across to where the First Team was
-warming up for the Forest Hill contest and damp
-but enthusiastic cheers arose from the stands. It
-seemed to Toby that a whole lot of fellows, including
-T. Tucker, were wasting the golden moments
-of life in vain pursuits. Could Toby have chosen
-an occupation just then he would have been a
-bearded and brawny pirate afloat on a tropic sea, a
-cutlass between his teeth and an assortment of pistols
-thrust in his blood-red sash. Which shows that
-Toby’s normally gentle and sane disposition had a
-bad kink in it to-day.</p>
-
-<p>And at such an inopportune moment Roy Frick,
-whose disposition, unlike Toby’s, was never worthy
-of being termed gentle, saw fit to make himself obnoxious.
-In justice to Frick it should be explained
-that he had an inherent dislike for the sensation of
-raindrops trickling down the back of his neck, which
-sensation he was now having. Frick was a sturdily-made,
-hard-muscled fellow of seventeen with a
-broad, not ill-favored face. He was vain, arrogant
-and pugnacious, although there were those who said
-that he liked to talk fight better than he liked to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_148"></a>[148]</span>
-fight. Perhaps in an effort to forget his misery,
-Frick had taken a ball from the canvas sack in
-which they were brought to the field and was passing
-with Lippman. Frick was behind Toby, but
-the latter was dimly aware of what was going on,
-just as he was aware of the late-comers, George
-Tubb among them, who were dawdling down from
-the gymnasium. Once the pigskin, made slippery
-by the rain, escaped from Frick and bobbed across
-the wet turf to where Toby stood, and Toby sent it
-trickling back with a touch of his foot. Perhaps
-there was something antagonistic in the brief, careless
-glance exchanged with Frick, for Toby felt antagonistic
-to everything at the moment. In any case,
-Frick doubtless resented that look, and a minute
-later the football collided with a dull, damp thump
-against the back of Toby’s head.</p>
-
-<p>“Sorry!” called Frick grinning. “The ball’s
-slippery, Tucker.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby flushed, walked onto the gridiron, where
-the pigskin was wobbling erratically about, and
-picked it up. Then, facing the longest stretch of the
-field and trying to recall all he had learned of punting,
-he swung his right foot against the dropping
-ball and was rewarded with a very healthy-sounding
-thump. Such a performance in a game would<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_149"></a>[149]</span>
-have won him applause, for the ball, in spite of its
-sodden condition, arched toward the further corner
-of the field in a fine, long flight and came to earth
-a full forty-five yards away. But there was no applause
-on this occasion, unless the amused glances
-of those who happened to see the feat could have
-been construed as applausive. Frick came running,
-his face redder than Toby’s had been.</p>
-
-<p>“What’s the idea, Tucker?” he demanded threateningly.
-“You go and fetch that now!”</p>
-
-<p>“Not likely,” answered Toby in a growl.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, you will, or I’ll knock your red head off!
-You get it, do you hear?”</p>
-
-<p>Toby’s face paled from red to white. “Yes, I
-hear,” he said in a low and steady voice. He covered
-the distance of a scant yard that separated
-them in one quick step. “I hear a lot I don’t take
-stock in, Frick. I hear you’re a fighter, for instance!”</p>
-
-<p>Frick’s right arm went back, elbow crooked, hand
-clenched, and his right foot moved back with it, but
-Toby didn’t wait. Instead, he stepped suddenly
-forward with his own left foot and thrust shoulder
-and flattened hand against Frick’s chest with the
-result that the latter staggered back, failed to recover
-his balance and sat down hard. He was up<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_150"></a>[150]</span>
-in an instant, his eyes blazing, silent, and just a bit
-doubtful. And Toby, who had followed, stood
-ready. But, while a fight would have been a welcome
-relief from boredom, the others interposed.
-Watson and Farquhar and Sid Creel and several
-more got between the opponents with words of caution
-and displeasure.</p>
-
-<p>“Cut it, you chumps!” said the big center, pushing
-Frick away. “Here comes Mr. Burtis!”</p>
-
-<p>“What do I care?” cried Frick. “Think he’s
-going to knock me down and get away with it? Let
-go of me, Ben, or I’ll—I’ll smash you! I will!
-Take your hands——”</p>
-
-<p>But Watson wouldn’t, and Farquhar was there
-too, soothing and ridiculing, and every one had
-mixed in and the incident was perforce closed.
-And lest Toby, who really seemed quite calm and
-peaceable, should attempt to continue the discussion,
-Sid Creel and Stover stood guard over him. And
-onto the scene strode Coach Burtis and Captain
-Beech, suspicious but asking no questions, and every
-one strolled casually somewhere else and looked
-very innocent.</p>
-
-<p>“What was the trouble?” whispered Sid Creel as
-he and Toby wandered along the side-line. Toby<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_151"></a>[151]</span>
-related the incident in a few words, and Sid observed
-him curiously.</p>
-
-<p>“Gee, you must have had a grouch,” he exclaimed
-wonderingly. “Never knew you had a
-temper like that, Toby!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I have,” answered Toby dryly. “Of
-course, it was a silly thing to do, but he had no business
-lamming me with that wet ball!”</p>
-
-<p>Sid grinned. “Well, it wasn’t his fault the ball
-was wet, was it?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>Toby managed a weak smile. “It’s his fault he
-will have to chase after it,” he answered.</p>
-
-<p>But of course Frick didn’t have to do any such
-thing. There is always some obliging person about
-in such an emergency, and it was young Lovett,
-hopeful candidate for end position, who scurried
-off and brought it back to an indignant Gyp. Then
-practice began and every one had other things to
-think of for the succeeding hour. Now and again
-Toby and Roy Frick encountered each other, on
-which occasions Frick glowered or sneered and
-Toby pretended to have forgotten the other’s existence.
-Toby was rather ashamed of himself by now
-and quite willing to consider the affair closed.</p>
-
-<p>There was no scrimmage this afternoon, and at
-a little after four the squad was dismissed. Taking<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_152"></a>[152]</span>
-only time enough to wrap themselves in blankets,
-the Second hurried in a body across to the other
-gridiron and won a ripple of laughter as they appeared
-like so many blue wraiths, around the corner
-of the covered stand. It seemed like an accident,
-but possibly wasn’t, that George Tubb scuttled into
-the seat next to Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“Guess that guy would have mopped the ground
-up with you if the fellows hadn’t butted in,” observed
-George with one of his malicious grins.
-“He’s a lot heavier than you, Tucker.”</p>
-
-<p>“I had a lucky escape then,” replied Toby.
-“Know what the score is here?”</p>
-
-<p>“Nothing to nothing. Forest Hill’s too fast for
-those First Team yaps. Say, I wish Frick would
-try to get gay with me some day! I don’t like that
-blow-hard.”</p>
-
-<p>“Perhaps he will,” said Toby pleasantly. “At
-least, you can hope, Tubb.”</p>
-
-<p>George eyed him suspiciously. Toby’s tone had
-suggested that he viewed the idea with favor.
-George grunted. “Well, if he ever does he will get
-a lot more’n he expects,” he growled. “You ought
-to have handed him a punch instead of just pushing
-him, Tucker. He’ll be after you the first chance
-he gets. They say he’s a clever scrapper, too.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_153"></a>[153]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Do they?” asked Toby indifferently. “Then
-there’ll probably be enough left for you to tackle,
-Tubb.”</p>
-
-<p>The third period ended just then, and Toby’s
-gaze, turning away from the players, encountered
-Tubb’s. For some reason Tubb colored, and then
-blurted: “Say, you never came around to the room
-like you said you were going to, Tucker. You’re
-getting sort of choosey, too, I suppose.”</p>
-
-<p>“I called last week, Tubb. You were out. Didn’t
-Ramsey tell you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes. I forgot. How’d you know I’d be out?”
-Again that objectionable grin! Toby frowned.</p>
-
-<p>“I didn’t,” he said shortly. Then: “Can’t you
-ever be decent, Tubb?” he asked. “This thing of
-always having a chip on your shoulder is a bit tiresome.”</p>
-
-<p>“I haven’t any chip.” Tubb laughed a mixture
-of apology and defiance. “I’ve got some—some
-pride, though! No fellow needs to know me if he
-doesn’t want to!”</p>
-
-<p>“That goes without saying,” answered Toby
-dryly.</p>
-
-<p>George scowled darkly. “Well, it’s so. A lot of
-you guys with wrist-watches make me tired! Gee,
-if——”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_154"></a>[154]</span></p>
-
-<p>“I don’t happen to wear a wrist-watch, Tubb,
-and making you tired is nothing in my young life,”
-said Toby wearily. “Let’s cut out the love-pats.
-I’m not feeling awfully gay to-day. How do you
-like playing end?”</p>
-
-<p>“All right,” replied George after a moment. “If
-Mr. Burtis wasn’t a bonehead, though, he’d let me
-play half. I always have played half.”</p>
-
-<p>“Always?” asked Toby, idly, watching Snowden
-kick-off to Forest Hill. “How long is ‘always’?”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, last year and some the year before. I
-was the best back on our team, anyway!”</p>
-
-<p>“I didn’t know you had played so much. When
-I asked you——”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, well, you sounded so blamed patronizing,”
-growled George.</p>
-
-<p>“Didn’t mean to. I’m glad you stuck it out on
-the squad, Tubb. Beech said the other day that—well,
-he seemed to think you were going to make
-a pretty good end.”</p>
-
-<p>“Huh!” said George scornfully. “I could show
-him some real end playing right now if he’d give
-me a chance! But he’s stuck on Mawson and Connell.”
-In spite of his words, Toby got the idea
-that George was nevertheless pleased by the compliment<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_155"></a>[155]</span>
-to his playing. “I suppose they belong to
-the same Society Beech does!”</p>
-
-<p>“No, as a matter of fact, Tubb, Beech is Cambridge
-and Connell is Oxford. I don’t know which
-Mawson is, but I don’t think it matters. I wouldn’t
-make remarks of that sort if I were you. Fellows
-don’t like them.”</p>
-
-<p>If Tubb made any reply Toby didn’t hear it, for
-Halliday had got away around Forest Hill’s left
-and pulled down a long and desperate forward-pass,
-and now he was streaking up the field with the ball
-and the stand was on its feet, shouting and imploring.
-Halliday dodged the first of the enemy and
-sped on. Then the Forest Hill quarter was on him,
-there was a confusion of rolling bodies and Ted
-was free again to go plunging on toward the nearing
-goal-line. The pursuit gained but never quite
-reached him, and Ted at last subsided between the
-posts. That was all the scoring done by either team,
-and shortly after Captain Fanning had missed an
-easy goal the game ended. The visitors considered,
-and not without reason, that they had virtually won
-the honors of the day and departed cheering
-through the twilight drizzle.</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_156"></a>[156]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV<br />
-<small>TOBY AT QUARTER</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">The outcome of the Forest Hill game was
-a favorite topic of discussion during the
-next few days. Although Yardley had
-won in the last four minutes, by means of a well-earned
-touchdown following a forward pass, the
-general opinion was that the Blue had been largely
-outplayed by a lighter but much faster eleven. Of
-course, reverses were to be expected, but after Yardley’s
-showing in the Tyron game it did seem that
-she should have done better against a “small school
-team” like Forest Hill. On the other hand, the local
-football historians reminded that some six seasons
-ago, Forest Hill had actually won from Yardley, 5
-to 3, and that it was no uncommon thing for the
-smaller school to score against the Blue.</p>
-
-<p>Rumors of changes in the line-up spread, and it
-was whispered that all was not serene between captain
-and coach. Arnold was decidedly glum that
-Saturday evening, and, although the usual excursion<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_157"></a>[157]</span>
-to Greenburg in search of moving picture thrills
-was made, he was no great addition to the company.
-Afterwards, when they were preparing for bed,
-Toby told him that he was foolish to let football
-worry him so. “Any one might think you were
-captain of the eleven instead of Fanning,” said
-Toby. “You act——”</p>
-
-<p>“I wish I was—were—was——”</p>
-
-<p>“‘Were’ will do. Why do you wish you was—were?”</p>
-
-<p>“Because I’d drop two or three of the ‘dead-ones’
-and have a team instead of a bunch of stars!”</p>
-
-<p>Toby weighed that in silence. Finally: “Who
-are the ‘dead-ones’?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>Arnold shook his head. “Guess I oughtn’t to talk
-about it,” he muttered. “It’s not my business.”</p>
-
-<p>“Right you are! Just remember that. If it’s not
-your business, don’t worry about it.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s easy enough to say,” Arnold grumbled.
-After a moment he said explosively, dropping a
-shoe to the floor in emphasis: “Why Mr. Lyle
-doesn’t jump in and fire a couple of those fellows
-is what gets me! If he hasn’t got the backbone to
-stand up against Tom he oughtn’t to be coach.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, well, the season’s young yet,” answered
-Toby easily. “Maybe Mr. Lyle is sort of ‘watchful<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_158"></a>[158]</span>
-waiting.’ I’m thinking of going to sleep. When
-you get through holding your foot in your hand
-and making faces you might put out the light. It
-works quite easily. You just turn the thingumbob
-there. Don’t blow it out, please, because——”</p>
-
-<p>“Because it might stop your chatter! All right.
-Good-night.”</p>
-
-<p>The rumored changes in the First Team line-up
-didn’t materialize, however; at least not during the
-following week. Arnold reported that things were
-going better and gave credit to Mr. Lyle, who, it
-seemed, had delivered a few well-chosen words on
-Monday, before practice. “He’s really got some of
-the loafers at work,” said Arnold. “Even Stone is
-showing a little animation!”</p>
-
-<p>“Stone being one of the ‘dead-ones’?”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, he hasn’t looked very much alive until this
-week,” answered Arnold. “I dare say we’ll get our
-gait by Saturday. They say Brown and Young’s
-is a tough bunch of scrappers. I hope they are.
-We need to go up against something that has a
-wallop!”</p>
-
-<p>“You did that very thing yesterday,” said Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“You’re not far off, at that,” agreed the other.
-“Your team put up a mighty pretty scrap. If you’d<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_159"></a>[159]</span>
-been half as good on defense as you were on attack——”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, well, I noticed that we held you fellows
-twice inside our thirty. Hold your horses. We’ll
-be beating you badly by the end of the month!”</p>
-
-<p>“Rather fancy yourself, don’t you?” jeered Arnold.
-“By the way, was that your friend Tubbs who
-played left end for you in the last half?”</p>
-
-<p>“Tubb is the gentleman’s name. What did you
-think of him?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, he acted like a crazy Indian! He made
-me nervous looking at him, and hearing him!”</p>
-
-<p>Toby laughed. “That’s his style, Arn. It’s
-psychological, you see. He distracts the attention
-of the opponent from the game. All that jumping
-and up and down and running around and talking
-is just to get your goat!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, he came near getting it, all right! He
-made as much row as a Broadwood shortstop with
-the bases full and two down! But he seemed to
-me to be playing a pretty good game, just the same.
-He was into everything!”</p>
-
-<p>“Beech says he’s a comer, Arn. If he could only
-get over the idea that he’s being imposed on by
-every one he’d get on a heap better.”</p>
-
-<p>“He’s a chronic sorehead and kicker, I suppose.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_160"></a>[160]</span>
-I’ve met one or two like him. Maybe he will get
-over it in time. How’s that other protégé of yours,
-the tennis fiend?”</p>
-
-<p>“Ramsey? I don’t see much of him nowadays.
-But I know that he’s got in with a fairly decent lot
-of chaps and looks about fifty per cent better than
-he did. I told you about his freezing me one night
-when I went to see him? Had both windows wide
-open and told me he couldn’t get along without
-plenty of fresh air. Bet you anything he’d never
-slept with a window open in his life until Muscles
-got at him! You know, I think I can take a bit of
-credit for the—the rejuvenation of friend Ramsey!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, that’s some word, but I dare say you’re
-right. Now all you’ve got to do is make Mr. Tubbs
-over and you’re through.”</p>
-
-<p>“Tubb is a hard-boiled one, Arn, and I haven’t
-much hope of him. If I liked him a bit better I
-suppose I’d take more interest in his career——”</p>
-
-<p>“I wish you’d stop talking like a blooming dictionary,”
-groaned Arnold. “Now dry up and let
-me take a fall out of this math.”</p>
-
-<p>That week saw two changes in the Second Team.
-Sid Creel displaced Watson at center and George
-Tubb was shifted from B Team to A. He and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_161"></a>[161]</span>
-Mawson were used impartially and in the four
-games that the Second played against the First that
-week there appeared to be little choice between
-them. The same could be as truthfully said of
-Toby and Roy Frick. Sometimes one started the
-game and sometimes the other, but each had an
-equal chance. Toby had his shortcomings and so
-did his rival, Toby’s concerning individual play and
-Frick’s generalship. Or, perhaps, leadership
-would be a better word to use. Somehow, or so it
-seemed to those whose business it was to note such
-things, the Second Team showed more life and aggressiveness
-when Toby’s shrill voice called the signals.
-For Toby’s voice <em>was</em> shrill when he played
-quarter, though at other times it was an ordinary
-tenor of middle register, with a pleasant touch of
-Long Island fog in it. But that first day, when unexpectedly
-called on to act as quarter-back, Toby’s
-nervousness had sent his voice several notes up the
-scale, and for some reason it had never come down
-again so long as he was giving signals. Arnold likened
-it to the yelping of a fox terrier one day, and
-on the next occasion Toby tried hard to bring it
-back to normal, with the result that it sounded as
-hoarse as a frog with a bad cold, and no one could
-hear him!</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_162"></a>[162]</span></p>
-
-<p>But at individual playing of the position, Roy
-Frick was better. Frick was a tricky runner and
-frequently squirmed outside tackles for needed
-gains. And he was a dependable punter. Possibly
-Toby would have showed up better beside Frick at
-this time if he had had more faith in his own ability,
-but he was chary of trusting to his own efforts
-to advance the ball. On catching punts and running
-them in, he was not much behind his rival, and at
-punting he was fast catching up with him. But
-there was no doubt that from the spectator’s point
-of view Frick was the man for the job.</p>
-
-<p>There had been no resumption of hostilities between
-the two. Toby was willing to forgive and
-forget, although he secretly disliked Frick for the
-latter’s overbearing manner. For his part, Frick
-had evidently neither forgiven nor forgotten, but
-he seemed satisfied to let the matter rest as it was.
-Toby had an idea that the other frequently ridiculed
-his playing, for sometimes he caught looks of stifled
-amusement on the faces of Frick’s cronies. As,
-however, they were seldom on the bench at the same
-time and, being in different classes and having different
-circles of friends, scarcely ever encountered
-each other off the football field, there was little
-chance for a clash. At training table Frick sat four<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_163"></a>[163]</span>
-places from Toby on the same side of the board;
-and, anyway, at table personal animosities would
-not be allowed to flourish. Save for an occasional
-Sunday, Coach Burtis was always in his place at
-the head, and he had a watchful eye and a careful
-ear.</p>
-
-<p>On Friday, contrary to custom, the Second Team
-was led across to the other gridiron for a twelve-minute
-bout with the First. The First had not
-pleased Coach Lyle since the Forest Hill game, and
-the morrow’s contest, with Brown and Young’s
-School would demand all the Blue had. Toby was
-sent in at quarter. He noted two changes in the
-First Team’s line. Casement was playing right
-guard in place of Snow and Candee was at center
-in Simpson’s stead. Coach Burtis had instructed
-him to give the First’s center and right side the
-brunt of the line attack, and Toby understood now
-that the substitutes there were to be put to the test.
-He wondered if either of them suspected and
-whether their own coach had instigated the ordeal.
-He felt a bit sorry for Snow, who was rather light
-for a guard, and hoped he wouldn’t get used too
-roughly.</p>
-
-<p>There was no kick-off to-day. Instead, Second
-was given the ball in the middle of the field.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_164"></a>[164]</span>
-Coaches and trainers hovered about like hawks
-around a chicken yard, and there was much exhorting
-and last-moment instructing. First Team had
-been keyed up to the minute, and faces showed
-strain and poised bodies tension. Toby had Nelson,
-Lippman, and Crawford behind him, and it
-was Lippman he chose for that first attack. His
-voice yelped, Farquhar, left tackle, trotted over to
-the right of the line, the signal came, and Lippman,
-seizing the ball at a hand-pass, smashed ahead.
-Crawford and Toby piled in behind. The First
-Team line buckled and snapped back again. Jim
-Rose, big and pink-cheeked, roared defiance. “Second
-down! Nine!” shouted the referee. Toby
-grabbed an arm and pulled Lippman out of the pile.
-Already he was shouting new signals. Again Farquhar
-shifted, again Lippman took the pass. But
-this time he shot obliquely to the left, the whole
-back-field behind him, and plunged at Snow.
-Through he went, fighting, squirming, turning!
-two yards—three—four—Then the rout was
-stayed. A faint “Down” and the blowing of the
-whistle came together. Toby arose from some
-one’s unquiet legs and added another note to his
-voice:</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_165"></a>[165]</span></p>
-
-<p>“That’s the stuff, Second! That’s working!
-Come on, now! Let’s get ’em again! Signal!”</p>
-
-<p>“Five to go!” cried the referee, skipping away.</p>
-
-<p>“Hold that side! Hold that side!” shouted
-Fanning.</p>
-
-<p>“That was on you, Snow!” Mr. Lyle’s voice was
-ice-cold. “Don’t let them do it again!”</p>
-
-<p>“Come on, Yardley! Throw ’em back!” called
-Curran, up-field. “Watch for a forward, there,
-Ted!”</p>
-
-<p>Again Second smashed at the First’s right guard
-and center, and again the latter yielded. But Crawford
-had made only a yard and a half, and now it
-was fourth down and the forty-yard line was still
-a good ten feet distant. Grover Beech pulled
-Toby’s head down and whispered, and Toby gave
-back a doubtful glance. But Beech’s word was
-law so long as it didn’t transgress the coach’s instructions,
-and Toby yielded. “Farquhar back!” he
-called. “Hold that line, Second!” Farquhar
-trotted to a kicking position and Nelson slipped into
-the line. First scented a fake, but covered her field
-nevertheless. Then the ball shot back to Lippman
-and he set out around his end, Toby leading. For
-a moment the play looked good, for First had
-drawn her back-field away, but Sanford eluded<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_166"></a>[166]</span>
-Connell and sent Toby sprawling and Roover got
-Lippman two yards short of the distance.</p>
-
-<p>First made two at the Second’s left and then
-kicked. Crawford misjudged the ball badly on his
-twenty-five yards and it went over his head. Toby
-fell on it on his fifteen, and two First Team men
-fell on him. Second plugged the center again for
-two, and again for one. Then, on a delayed pass,
-Crawford squirmed through Snow for eight yards
-and first down. What a scolding there was then!
-Coach Lyle fairly raised welts. Some one called
-for time, and Toby, still short of breath from being
-sat on by the First Team ends, was very glad.
-Beech led him back.</p>
-
-<p>“Watch Stone,” he said. “He’s coming away in
-on those plays. Slip one through outside him,
-Tucker. There’s a fine hole there!”</p>
-
-<p>Toby nodded. “Got to bang the center, though,
-Beech. Coach’s orders. I’ll try it, though, first
-time they tighten.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby shifted his line to the left, and First massed
-to meet the attack. Lippman failed at center, Candee
-standing like a rock. On a fake-kick, Crawford
-struck the line hard, but made less than a yard.
-Crawford gained three through Snow. Farquhar
-dropped back and Lippman dashed outside Stone<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_167"></a>[167]</span>
-and reeled off six yards before he was stopped.
-With one to go on fourth down, Toby elected to
-punt, and Farquhar dropped the pigskin on the
-First’s thirty-yard line. Roover brought it back
-to near the center of the field before Beech pulled
-him down.</p>
-
-<p>First worked a neat forward-pass that netted
-seventeen yards and then smashed through center
-for five more. Second held twice and First booted
-over the line. On the twenty-five Toby returned
-to the attack on Snow and Candee and gained six
-in three downs. A fake-kick resulted in a fumble
-and the pigskin went to First on the opponent’s
-twenty-two. There was no holding the First Team
-then and she scored in seven plays, Snowden landing
-the ball near the corner of the field. The punt-out
-was not allowed and the teams went back to the
-fifty. Coach Lyle took pity on Snow and that
-much-mauled youth was removed in favor of Casement.
-For the Second, Stover and White came on
-for Lippman and Crawford, and George Tubb for
-Mawson. Again the kick-off was barred and Second
-given the ball. Toby tried the new right guard
-with no gain, got Stover around left for three,
-failed once more at center and himself punted to
-First’s twenty. First kicked on second down,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_168"></a>[168]</span>
-Snowden getting nearly fifty yards. Stover caught
-and dodged back for ten. From the forty, Tubb
-swung around back and gained midfield on a fine
-run around the enemy’s left end. Then Toby fumbled
-and Rose captured the ball for the First. Another
-forward pass, Curran to Halliday, took the
-First to the Second’s twenty-four, and from there
-the First battered her way across for the second
-score. Before she got it, however, Toby retired
-groggily and Frick took his place. Toby had ill-advisedly
-allowed Snowden to sit on his stomach.
-Frick’s labor was soon over, however, for the First
-Team’s second touchdown practically ended the
-game.</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_169"></a>[169]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV<br />
-<small>THE “TOUGH BUNCH”</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">No one seemed satisfied with the day’s performance.
-The First resented the enemy’s
-gains through their line and the
-Second declared stoutly that if they had been taught
-a decent defense against forward-passes the First
-would never have scored. Arnold told Toby later
-that Coach Lyle had read the riot act afterwards.
-“I didn’t know he could be so rude,” said Arnold
-sadly.</p>
-
-<p>“Why didn’t you get in to-day?” Toby asked
-from the window-seat where, propped on many
-cushions, he looked pale and interesting.</p>
-
-<p>“Lyle wanted to give you fellows a show.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, Bates didn’t do a whole lot,” said Toby.
-“You’re pretty punk, Arn, but you’ve got it over
-him. Gee, if I hadn’t made that rotten fumble on
-the fifty yards that time we might have held you
-fellows to a measly six points!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_170"></a>[170]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Yes, not! Son, that fumble of yours didn’t
-affect the game a mite. It was forward-passing
-that beat you chaps. Your ends were no good at
-all. Even your friend Mr. Tubb was fast asleep.”</p>
-
-<p>“I know. We’ve got no sort of a defense for forward-passes.
-I called the turn on that second one,
-but Farquhar was away out of position and Tubb
-let Roover get right by him. You wait another
-week, though! We’re getting your measure, Arn!
-What about to-morrow? Are you going to play?”</p>
-
-<p>“Ask Mr. Lyle. I suppose I’ll get a show sometime,
-though. I sure want to. They say Brown
-and Young’s are regular bearcats! What time is
-it getting to be? I’m as hungry as the dickens.
-Let’s go!”</p>
-
-<p>The Second Team had no practice Saturday,
-which, for some of its members, was fortunate,
-since the First had managed to deal very harshly
-with them during the brief period of yesterday’s
-game. Toby, although he had nothing to show in
-the way of scars, was tired and lame when he
-crawled out of bed in the morning, and not until he
-had shivered under a shower-bath, groaningly
-rubbed himself pink and done two minutes of setting-up
-exercises in front of an open window which
-admitted the frostly tingle of the October morning<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_171"></a>[171]</span>
-did the usual feeling of well-being return. After
-that he was able to reach chapel without protests
-from lame muscles and, later, do full justice to
-a breakfast of cereal, eggs, toast, stewed fruit, and
-milk.</p>
-
-<p>Fortunately, on Saturday mornings recitations
-were few, for, save during a brief midwinter period
-when outdoor sports were at a standstill, preoccupation
-was always noticeable on the part of the
-student body on that day of the week. Such a condition
-of mind was especially evident this forenoon,
-due, probably, to the fact that Yardley’s opponent
-in the afternoon had been heralded as a strong team
-with a proclivity for “roughing it.” Yardley, as
-much as any school and perhaps more than many,
-held for clean playing, but there was enough of the
-“Old Adam” there to make a bit of scrapping interesting.
-Its attitude was well explained by a remark
-made by Will Curran, the First Team quarter,
-in front of Oxford between recitations.</p>
-
-<p>“If they’re mean players we’ll lick them,” said
-Curran. “I never saw a team yet who could play
-dirty ball and win as long as the other fellow played
-clean. But my guess is that they won’t play dirty.
-That sort of stuff doesn’t go here, and I think they
-know it. If they don’t know it they’ll mighty soon<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_172"></a>[172]</span>
-find it out! They’ll play clean if we have to slug
-’em to make ’em!”</p>
-
-<p>Which statement, although made in all sincerity
-and with a perfectly sober countenance, met with
-a ripple of laughter from his hearers. “That’s the
-idea, Will!” approved Frank Lamson. “We’ll have
-peace if we have to fight for it!”</p>
-
-<p>Brown and Young’s School was a new institution
-and a large one. You saw its half-page advertisements
-in the magazines every month. Although a
-city school, it emphasized athletics and had a field
-that any university might have been proud of, with
-a stadium that was an architectural triumph. There
-were those who opined that Brown and Young’s
-graduates were likely to be better grounded in football,
-baseball and track athletics than in scholarly
-studies, but possibly such persons were disgruntled
-by a Brown and Young’s defeat. For Brown and
-Young’s took athletics seriously and pursued victory
-on diamond, gridiron or rink most strenuously.
-And, it must be acknowledged, Brown and Young’s
-had won many laurels. Yardley had met her last
-spring in baseball, but this was the first gridiron
-contest between the two. On the diamonds Brown
-and Young’s had proved noisy, argumentative and
-a trifle rough in the pinches, and had accepted a 3<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_173"></a>[173]</span>
-to 2 defeat not very graciously, but she had not
-been guilty of unfair tactics. Perhaps, as Tom
-Fanning said, she liked to be thought a bit “tough”
-in the hope that her adversaries would either be
-afraid or try to beat her at toughness and get caught
-doing it. In any event, Yardley received a strict
-warning from Coach Lyle before the game.</p>
-
-<p>“Any fellow who tries dirty work will come
-out,” he declared. “If the officials don’t put him
-off, I will. Just remember that. If Brown and
-Young’s don’t play clean it’s up to the officials.
-We’ve heard that these fellows are a ‘tough bunch,’
-a win-at-any-cost team, but you can’t believe everything
-you hear. So don’t go into the game looking
-for trouble. Maybe it isn’t there. If they should
-try the rough-stuff, your captain will call the officials’
-attention to it. Just you keep your hands and
-your temper down and your heads up. Play as hard
-as you know how, fellows, but play fair.”</p>
-
-<p>It was an ideal football day, crisp and sunny,
-with almost no wind. Frost had left the field a bit
-soft but not sufficiently so to affect any one’s game.
-Greenburg turned out a good audience, which,
-added to the Yardley rooters and a half-hundred
-Brown and Young’s followers, nearly filled the
-stands by three o’clock. Toby had Sid Creel and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_174"></a>[174]</span>
-Grover Beech for companions, and, reaching the
-field early, they got first row seats directly behind
-the Yardley bench. Brown and Young’s came on
-first, a capable-looking squad of thirty or so, accompanied
-by a regular retinue of noncombatants; a
-head coach and an assistant coach, a couple of
-managers, a trainer, an assistant trainer and two
-rubbers.</p>
-
-<p>“Guess the Principal must be ill,” said Beech
-dryly. “I don’t see him anywhere.”</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe he’s one of the cheer leaders,” suggested
-Sid. “Those are sure some gaudy togs of theirs!”</p>
-
-<p>Sid had reference to the enemy’s orange sweaters
-and orange-and-black-ringed stockings.</p>
-
-<p>“Princeton colors,” said Beech. “Doubtless
-showing a predilection for that university on the
-part of our noble opponent.”</p>
-
-<p>“How do you get that way?” inquired Sid slangily.
-“Brown and Young’s fellows don’t go to
-Princeton.”</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t they?” asked Toby innocently. “Where
-do they go?”</p>
-
-<p>“Into professional baseball,” answered Sid in
-triumph.</p>
-
-<p>Beech grinned approval of the bon mot, but said
-that he didn’t believe there was room in professional<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_175"></a>[175]</span>
-baseball for them all. Sid didn’t argue the matter,
-for Yardley trotted around the corner of the stand
-just then and the cheer leaders were bellowing for
-“A regular Yardley cheer, fellows, for the Team!”</p>
-
-<p>After that, with four elevens warming up on the
-gridiron, there was too much to watch for conversation
-to flourish. Instead, the talk ran something
-like this: “Noyes is driving the scrubs.”—“Simpson’s
-back at center, Cap.”—“Gee, that was some
-punt! Wonder if they can do that in the game!”—“Oh,
-you Ted Halliday!”—“Look at the size of
-that guy, will you? Must be their center.”—“Right
-guard. He’d make two of Casement!”—“Those
-chaps have got a heap of pep, haven’t they?”—“How’re
-you betting, Cap?”—“Watch that yellow-leg
-kicking goals down there, fellows! He hasn’t
-missed one yet!”—“Hello, Andy! Who’s going to
-win?”—“Who’s the little chap in the gray sweater?”—“Cornish,
-of Trinity. He’s umpiring. He’s
-good, too.”—“Those fellows can cheer, can’t they?
-Rotten name for a school, though; Brown and
-Young’s. Sounds like they were advertising a department
-store!”—“Must be most time to start.
-Three minutes of? There goes Fanning now. Is
-that the referee with him?”—“Good-looking guy,
-that Brown and Young’s captain.”—“Fan lost the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_176"></a>[176]</span>
-toss! Sure he did! What? Oh, that’s different!
-Still, I don’t see——”—“Every one up! Bust
-yourself, Toby! Rah! Rah! Rah!——”</p>
-
-<p>Then, when the rival cheers had floated off across
-the river and the gold-and-russet marshes beyond,
-the stands became momentarily silent and the
-referee’s voice sounded clearly: “All ready, Brown
-and Young?—Ready, Yardley?” Then the
-whistle piped and a tall yellow-sleeved tackle swung
-a striped leg and sent the new ball hurtling down
-the field.</p>
-
-<p>It was a long, high kick, and well-placed, and
-when Snowden had gathered it into his arms and
-doubled himself over it the enemy was almost on
-him. A scant eight yards he made, by dint of much
-twisting and feinting, and then he was pulled down.
-Yardley made one stab at the opponent’s left and
-gained two. Then the ball went back to Snowden
-and was hurled well up the field to the left. Roover
-was quite alone when it reached him, and he trailed
-off a dozen yards before he was forced outside. The
-play had caught the enemy napping, and it had suddenly
-moved the game from Yardley to Brown and
-Young’s territory, for when the ball was paced in
-and grounded it lay just short of the enemy’s forty
-yards. The Blue’s cohorts cheered and shouted and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_177"></a>[177]</span>
-waved, while, from across the field, came a snappy,
-undismayed cheer from the Orange-and-Black.</p>
-
-<p>Another slight gain outside left tackle, and again
-the pigskin shot back to Snowden. This time the
-big full-back started off toward his right as if he
-meant to turn the end, but, challenged, he threw a
-lateral to Arnold Deering, and Arnold, behind good
-interference, raced to the adversary’s twenty-eight
-before he was set on savagely and tumbled head
-over heels. Fortunately he held tight to the ball.
-The Yardley stand was in an uproar of triumph
-and delight. Dismay showed in the ranks of the
-enemy. Toby saw the Brown and Young’s quarter,
-a spindly, nervous-mannered youth, look back
-apprehensively at the goal-posts as he retreated up
-the field yelling strident encouragement to his fellows.
-Toby felt a certain sympathy with that quarter-back,
-enemy or no enemy. Toby had experienced
-similar apprehension.</p>
-
-<p>Brown and Young’s looked pitifully weak during
-the next few minutes. Her opponent’s success had
-upset her calculations and the suddenness of events
-had left her gasping and rattled. From the twenty-eight
-yards Roover carried the ball in two plunges
-through the Orange’s left to a position opposite the
-goal and twenty-one yards away from it. Then<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_178"></a>[178]</span>
-kicking formation was called and Fanning dropped
-out of the line, his place being taken by Roover.
-Brown and Young’s shouted warnings against a
-fake, but the cry of “Block that kick!” mingled with
-them. Captain Fanning stretched his hands forth,
-Curran piped his signals, the ball left Simpson——</p>
-
-<p>Confusion reigned! Cries filled the air! Yardley
-swept forward! But where was the ball? Fanning’s
-right leg swung against nothing. Deering
-was running off to the left, chased by an orange-sleeved
-end and Brown and Young’s forwards were
-piling through. But no one, it seemed, had the ball!
-And then, out of the ruck of confusion, shot a flash
-of blue that, seen dimly between the heaving forms
-of friend and foe, resolved into the likeness of Curran!
-Straight ahead leaped the quarter-back,
-straight at the center of the goal. For five yards
-he slipped unchallenged through the very storm center
-of the battle. Then the ruse was discovered and
-the Orange hurled her defenses upon him. But
-friend as well as enemy was about him now, and not
-until the ten-yard line was underfoot was he tackled.
-Then, fighting hard, he dragged on for three more
-strides, faltered, was borne back and went down
-under an avalanche of enemy forms.</p>
-
-<p>“The old delayed pass!” cried Grover Beech almost<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_179"></a>[179]</span>
-tearfully in his joy. “And they fell for it!”</p>
-
-<p>Eight yards to go! Desperately, while the tumult
-still reigned, Brown and Young’s lined up under
-the shadow of her goal. That she could stop the
-enemy now was too much to hope, nor did she,
-though she battled fiercely. Deering was launched
-ahead for two yards and Roover made two more.
-The shouting had almost ceased from the stands
-and the Brown and Young’s quarter could be heard
-imploring the team to “Hold ’em fellows! Throw
-’em back! Get low! Get low! Hold ’em!” And
-with his voice came a medley of others and, sharp,
-stabbing, through them all, the musketry of Curran’s
-signals. Then a sudden heaving of both tense
-lines, a concentration of the whole Yardley back-field
-on the enemy center, a slow yielding there and,
-finally, a break, with Snowden, the ball hugged
-to his stomach, arching over and through on a sea
-of squirming figures!</p>
-
-<p>Well over the last line lay the pigskin, a foot to
-spare! And as Yardley trotted back, swinging
-headguards, cavorting a little, and Brown and
-Young’s lined up sullenly beneath the cross-bar, Sid
-Creel laid his head in Toby’s lap, kicked Beech lovingly
-on the shins and murmured rapturously:
-“From our twenty yards to their goal in nine plays!<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_180"></a>[180]</span>
-Eighty yards in eight minutes! O Brown, where is
-thy victory! O Young, where is thy sting!”</p>
-
-<p>Fanning kicked an easy goal and again Brown
-and Young’s sent the ball from the tee. There was
-a breathless moment while Arnold Deering juggled
-the catch and then a clever advance of nearly
-twenty yards through half the enemy team. Two
-attempts at the line netted but three, and Yardley
-made her first punt. And for the first time since
-the game began Brown and Young’s had the ball in
-her possession. But disruption was still evident,
-and the whistle sounding the end of the first period
-came as a welcome of relief to the visitors.</p>
-
-<p>When play was resumed the Orange showed her
-possibilities, for, although Yardley stopped her midway
-between center line and goal and, having
-adopted defensive tactics for the time, kicked
-again on second down, Brown and Young’s came
-back with ever increasing determination.</p>
-
-<p>The Orange used a clever and often disconcerting
-combination of straight, old-style line-bucking
-and wide end-running with a remarkably efficient
-protection for the man with the ball. She had a bewildering
-number of back-field combinations, apparently
-chiefly designed to confuse the opponent.
-The fact that line-attacks and end-runs were sent<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_181"></a>[181]</span>
-off from the same close-up formation of the backs
-made it hard for Yardley to guess which was coming.
-In fact, the Brown and Young’s system of
-plays was well calculated to keep the enemy on the
-anxious seat, and just so long as her line continued
-fairly impregnable she was bound to make gains.
-So far she had attempted no forward-passing, and
-her kicking game was still an unknown quantity.
-Her plan appeared to be to hold the ball as long
-as she could, making the opponent wrest it from
-her in the scrimmage.</p>
-
-<p>As the second quarter progressed her attacks became
-fiercer and her resistance more stubborn. Her
-men played well together, and, although a few stood
-out above the rest in ability, individual effort was
-subordinated to teamwork. It was teamwork that
-made possible her running game, for every man
-had a duty and performed it, and not once in that
-period was Yardley able to reach the man with the
-ball until he had at least crossed the scrimmage
-line, and more often he had a substantial gain to
-his credit before the Blue’s secondary defense
-stopped him. It was principally the fact that, once
-inside the thirty yards, Brown and Young’s abandoned
-end-running for line-plugging that Yardley’s
-goal remained intact in that first half. Twice Yardley<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_182"></a>[182]</span>
-took the ball away from her inside the twenty-yard
-line and punted out of danger, and twice the
-Orange hammered or scuttled her way back again,
-the whistle halting a march that seemed destined
-to bring a touchdown.</p>
-
-<p>“That seven points doesn’t look as safe as it did
-awhile back,” said Grover Beech as the rival squads
-trailed off to the gymnasium. “Considering the
-way those lads played in the last quarter, I’d say
-we were mighty lucky to get it!”</p>
-
-<p>“You’re dead right,” agreed Sid Creel. “They’ve
-got it all over us on team-play. They move like
-a regular machine. Those end-runs of theirs are
-the slickest things I’ve seen in an age, and if we
-don’t find some way of stopping them we’ll get
-licked as sure as shooting!”</p>
-
-<p>“There’s just one way to stop them,” said Toby.
-“That’s to play our ends further out and bring a
-back into the line.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then they’d cut inside the end,” said Sid.
-“That’s old-stuff, sonny. Pull the opposing end out
-and then shoot the plays inside him.”</p>
-
-<p>“But with a half-back there——”</p>
-
-<p>“The trouble is,” said Beech, “you can’t guess
-when they’re coming. Half a dozen times I doped
-it out that they were going to smash the line and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_183"></a>[183]</span>
-they just fooled me. There’s nothing to give you
-a hint. I could see Tom Fanning getting goggle-eyed
-trying to size up what was coming. Usually
-there’s something to give the snap away: a back
-drops a foot or two further back or to one side, or
-he faces a bit the way the play’s going without
-meaning to, or you get a hint from the signal. But
-these chaps are foxy.”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t believe they’ve got anything on us as
-far as their line goes,” said Sid.</p>
-
-<p>“The only thing they’ve got on us is smoother
-playing,” declared Beech. “They’re playing end-of-season
-football and we’re playing what we’ve
-learned and no more.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, how do they get that way?” growled Sid.</p>
-
-<p>“They go at it harder, I guess. They tell me
-that that coach of theirs gets ten thousand a year.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ten thousand dollars!” ejaculated Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“No, eggs,” replied Sid sarcastically. “Well,
-why not? If he can teach a team to play like that
-by midseason he’s worth it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe,” agreed Beech. “If you’re running that
-kind of a school. But the best college football coach
-doesn’t get any more, and——”</p>
-
-<p>“They say Brown and Young’s has an enrollment
-this fall of nearly seven hundred, and it’s only three<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_184"></a>[184]</span>
-or four years old,” said Sid. “So I guess they can
-afford to pay a real salary to the coach. And I
-guess it pays them to afford it. Wonder, though,
-how much the Principal gets!”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, the Principal isn’t important,” observed
-Toby. “I dare say he just gets his room and meals
-and stationery, the poor fish! He ought to take
-a tumble to himself and study football. I had a
-sort of an idea I might be a railroad president or
-own a bank, or something modest like that, but I’ve
-changed my mind. I’m going to be a football
-coach. It pays better and the hours are shorter.”</p>
-
-<p>“But think of the responsibility,” chuckled Beech.
-“Wealth isn’t everything, Tucker.”</p>
-
-<p>“Say, do these yellow-legs play Broadwood?”
-demanded Sid.</p>
-
-<p>“No, I don’t believe so. They never have,” replied
-Beech.</p>
-
-<p>“Too bad. I wish they would. We’d get a dandy
-line on Broadwood.”</p>
-
-<p>“And Broadwood would get a dandy line on us.
-Don’t see that it would help much. Well, here they
-come again. No, it’s our fellows. Get onto your
-job, Fless!”</p>
-
-<p>The cheer leader gave a startled look over his
-shoulder, grabbed his big blue megaphone and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_185"></a>[185]</span>
-jumped to his feet. “Come on, Yardley! Every
-one up! Regular cheer, with nine ‘Yardleys!’ One!
-Two!——”</p>
-
-<p>The only change in the Blue’s line-up at the beginning
-of the third period was at left end, where
-Meadows had displaced Sandford. The Orange
-team returned intact. Yardley brought renewed
-joy to her supporters in the first few minutes by
-two long gains, one by means of a forward-pass and
-one by means of a seventeen-yard run by Deering,
-that took her well into Brown and Young’s territory.
-But after that the Orange refused to give and
-the ball changed hands on her twenty-seven yards.
-That Coach Lyle had tried hard to solve the enemy’s
-running game was evident on the occasion of the
-latter’s first attempt to gain around Yardley’s left.
-Instead of trying to get through the enemy’s excellent
-interference at once, Yardley adopted waiting
-tactics. So long as the man with the ball kept on
-toward the side-line the Blue was content to let him
-alone, and the surprising and even amusing spectacle
-of fully half of each team streaking in parallel
-courses across the field resulted. By these tactics
-Yardley gained an advantage. Whereas before she
-had plunged blindly at the Orange’s interference,
-often not knowing where the ball was, she now had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_186"></a>[186]</span>
-time to size up the situation and bend every energy
-toward the runner. Brown and Young’s play
-brought the whole back-field out laterally, the runner
-carrying the ball, either a half or the full-back,
-well guarded by three interferers, to whom, once
-having diverted the opponent’s charge toward the
-center, was added an end and tackle who formed
-what was virtually a rear guard. To be successful,
-however, the play demanded that the opposing defense
-be drawn through soon after it had started,
-the interference engaging it and the man with the
-ball shooting free at the last moment and turning
-in. So as long as the opponent did not challenge,
-the Orange formation continued on in a lateral
-direction until, for a moment, it seemed that it
-would simply continue across the side-line and into
-the stand! Eventually, however, the runner saw
-the futility of further waiting and took the law into
-his own hands in a desperate effort to save the play.
-But as he had to drop back to let his interference
-pass before he could turn in he was very promptly
-nailed and the Orange netted a six-yard loss. But
-of course it didn’t work out so well for Yardley the
-next time, for the Orange changed her tactics and
-shot the runner in at the first opportunity. Nevertheless,
-the play lost most of its effectiveness and,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_187"></a>[187]</span>
-toward the end of the contest, was entirely ignored.</p>
-
-<p>In that third period the honors were fairly even,
-with each team gaining two first downs and neither
-penetrating nearer to her opponent’s goal than the
-twenty-seven-yard line. Brown and Young’s punters
-showed themselves fully equal to either Roover
-or Snowden and the rival lines exhibited a similar
-strength against attack. Perhaps the Orange’s superiority,
-if she showed any, was in her aggressiveness,
-although it brought no returns so far as scoring
-was concerned. Each team in the period might
-have attempted a field-goal but chose to stand or fall
-on rushing. The seven points scored to the credit
-of Yardley had regained something of their original
-value when time was called for the quarter,
-although Brown and Young’s rooters were still
-hopeful and, across the field, there were many
-anxious hearts.</p>
-
-<p>Of the sort of playing with which the visitors had
-been accused, none had been seen. To be sure, the
-Orange players played hard and fierce, and when
-they tackled the runner always stayed where he was
-put, but nothing mean nor underhand had appeared.
-They did a lot of talking across the line, and some
-of their remarks were not in the best taste, but many<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_188"></a>[188]</span>
-of Yardley’s opponents were what the fellows called
-“gabby” and the Blue was used to verbal attack.</p>
-
-<p>Play started in the final period with the pigskin in
-Yardley’s possession on her opponent’s forty-four
-yards. Candee had taken Simpson’s place at center
-and Twining had substituted Rose at left guard.
-On the opposing team two changes in the line and
-one in the back-field had been made. Deering
-plugged through the Orange left for a short gain
-and Roover got outside tackle for two yards. Curran
-threw to Meadows, who missed the pass, and
-Roover punted. An Orange back cut through the
-Yardley field for nearly twenty yards after catching
-and the ball was on Brown and Young’s forty-one.
-It was then that the visitors opened their bag of
-tricks.</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_189"></a>[189]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI<br />
-<small>TUBB WINS PROMOTION</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">First, the Orange changed her back-field formation
-entirely. Instead of standing close
-to the line, three abreast, the two halves and
-the full-back retired to a position a good ten yards
-behind the scrimmage and spread widely. The
-quarter stood five yards behind center, crouched to
-take the pass. The right tackle shifted to the other
-side of the line, toward which, at the start of the signal,
-the three backs made a quarter-turn. But as
-the ball went back to the quarter the three swung to
-the right and started diagonally toward the end of
-their line, left half and full aiming at a point just
-outside it and right half deploying further to the
-right. At the same moment the right end began
-sprinting straight toward the side-line, drawing
-the Yardley left tackle and a defensive back with
-him.</p>
-
-<p>Having taken the ball from center, the quarter-back<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_190"></a>[190]</span>
-started also to the right, running parallel to the
-line until, left half and full having crossed in front
-of him, he was behind right end’s original position.
-There he slowed and shot the pigskin away at a lateral
-pass to the right half. The throw was some
-fifteen yards and perfectly made, and the right half,
-as yet unmolested, had no difficulty in getting it.
-Whereupon he set forth on his adventures, heading
-straight along the side-line and about twelve yards
-away from it. The opposing end had been blanketed
-by the full-back and it was not until the runner
-crossed the line of scrimmage that serious opposition
-to his advance developed. And then, with his
-own end and left half guarding his flank and the
-quarter making trouble for the rear attack, he proceeded
-brilliantly across the middle of the field and
-set his eyes on the goal.</p>
-
-<p>Yardley, suspecting something unusual and spectacular,
-had played her ends back and out and deployed
-three backs up the field. Halliday, at right
-end, had been rudely set aside, and it was Curran
-and Roover on whom the task of stopping the runner
-devolved. Roover, nearer at hand, did his best
-to get past the interference but failed, although in
-failing he upset the Brown and Young’s full-back.
-By now the whole field was in pursuit, with, however,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_191"></a>[191]</span>
-most of it hopelessly out of the race. Yet
-Casement, who for a guard was remarkably fast on
-his feet, somehow managed to get to the fore and
-sent the Orange quarter-back spinning aside, after
-which he put out for the runner. But Curran was
-the man for the job.</p>
-
-<p>Slowing as he neared the prey, he feinted as
-though to pass behind the Orange left half who was
-running about three yards inside the man with the
-ball. The half, guessing that the enemy would do
-the thing he appeared not to be doing, ran on, and
-Curran, leaping forward, circled behind him. And,
-although the half challenged, throwing himself between
-Curran and his team-mate, Curran managed
-somehow to meet the impact and, carried forward
-by his own momentum, seized one Yellow-and-Black
-leg ere it twinkled beyond his reach. The man with
-the ball added another yard to his gain, dragging
-Curran with him, but that weight was not to be
-denied and he came to his knees. Then Casement
-flattened him out, friend and foe labored breathlessly
-up and the whistle blew.</p>
-
-<p>Brown and Young’s had made a gain of nearly
-thirty yards, for when the ball had been wrested
-from the tenacious grip of the Orange right half-back
-it went down just short of Yardley’s thirty-yard<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_192"></a>[192]</span>
-line. Orange-hued banners waved wildly on
-the east stand while Yardley gave a well-deserved
-cheer for the rival half-back.</p>
-
-<p>Brown and Young’s had her eyes on the goal-line
-now and it seemed that she was not to be denied.
-Twice she hurled her full-back through for short
-gains at left guard, and then, using the new formation
-again, worked as pretty a quarter-back run
-around her left end as had ever been seen on Yardley
-Field. With the ball on the seventeen yards, she
-tried the line once more and split through for half
-the needed distance, the Blue’s left crumpling badly.
-Twining took the place of Rose, and another attempt
-on the left gained a scant yard. With four
-to go on third down, Brown and Young’s made all
-preparations for a place-kick, and a big, long-legged
-tackle ranged back to position. Yet Yardley refused
-to believe in that kick. The Orange needed
-seven points to tie, and it wasn’t likely that, with
-only a short time left, she would satisfy herself with
-a mere three points. And so, although everything
-pointed to a kick from placement, Fanning and Curran
-sounded their warnings and the backs hovered
-anxiously midway between line and goal. Then,
-at last, the ball sped back.</p>
-
-<p>But it never reached the outstretched hands of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_193"></a>[193]</span>
-the tackle. Instead, it went to a half-back and, as
-the Blue’s forwards desperately broke through, the
-half poised the pigskin calmly until Casement was
-almost on him and then as calmly sped it over the
-mêlée diagonally into the waiting arms of his right
-end. And that youth had but to take two strides to
-cross the last white line. When he was pulled down
-he was almost behind the right goal post.</p>
-
-<p>How that end got into position for receiving the
-pass unnoticed none on the Yardley team ever knew.
-One moment he wasn’t there and the next moment
-he was. Halliday and Deering, theoretically at
-least, shared the blame, although, as Fanning generously
-said afterwards, a forward-pass was the
-last thing expected. Not once before had the enemy
-attempted a forward from ordinary formation, and
-unconsciously Yardley had grown to think that that
-play was not included in her plan of battle. As it
-was, Arnold had seen the ball hurtling toward the
-corner of the field and had leaped forward with a
-sick feeling at his heart. But he had been a fraction
-of a moment too late. The end had made the catch
-ere Arnold reached him, and although Arnold
-threw desperate arms toward him the end eluded
-them and went free until Curran pulled him to
-earth.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_194"></a>[194]</span></p>
-
-<p>Brown and Young’s walked the ball out and, although
-the angle was sufficient to allow Yardley to
-hope for failure, the big tackle sent it squarely between
-the posts and the score was tied.</p>
-
-<p>With less than four minutes left, it was fairly
-obvious that 7 to 7 would be the final score, but
-Yardley, with three new men in her line-up, still
-hoped and returned eagerly to the fray. The kick-off
-went to the Orange’s twelve yards and came
-back only to her fifteen. A skin-tackle on her right
-brought her three yards and a second attempt was
-stopped. For the first time since the game had
-started the Orange players became ugly. Many
-changes had been made, and possibly it was a substitute
-who, charging through, tried to “mix it up”
-with Bates, who had succeeded Deering. Friends
-of both players sprang between and the Orange
-youth got off with a warning from the referee.
-There were a few hisses, many “boos” and some
-laughter from the stands. Possibly the incident
-supplied the added incentive that allowed Yardley
-to break through a moment later and block the adversary’s
-kick. The ball bounded from the up-thrown
-arm of a Yardley lineman and became lost
-in a mass of struggling players and for a long moment
-confusion reigned. When the referee finally<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_195"></a>[195]</span>
-penetrated to the bottom of the squirming, grunting
-pile he found the ball snuggled in the arms of
-a Yardley forward. The Blue cheered wildly and
-implored a touchdown as the result became known
-to the stands, and, since the teams lined up on the
-Orange’s fourteen yards, a touchdown looked possible
-enough.</p>
-
-<p>But the Blue’s first play resulted disastrously.
-Clarke, who had taken Halliday’s place at the right
-end of the line, was far offside when the ball was
-snapped and the team was set back. A plunge at
-guard-tackle hole on the left gave Yardley four
-yards, and Snowden, from kick formation, managed
-two more around right end. Then, however,
-a forward-pass, Snowden to Bates, went wrong and
-Fanning dropped back for a try-at-goal. While
-both stands grew silent, Will Curran patted the
-ground and poised himself on his knees for the pass
-from center. The position was at a slight angle and
-the distance was less than twenty yards and the
-Blue already saw victory perched upon her banner.
-But Brown and Young’s was desperate and Yardley,
-perhaps, oversure, and when the ball came back
-to Curran so, too, came half the Orange team, and,
-although Fanning met the poised ball fairly, it was
-still breast-high when the enemy reached it. There<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_196"></a>[196]</span>
-was a tragic <em>thud</em> as it rebounded from an onrushing
-player, followed by cries and the pounding of
-many feet as friend and foe took up the chase. The
-pursuit passed over Curran like a wave, leaving him
-writhing on the sod.</p>
-
-<p>Back to the thirty-yard line trickled the pigskin,
-and there a Brown and Young’s tackle scooped it
-up from under the nose of half a dozen others and
-sprang away toward the distant Yardley goal. But
-although he started with a clear field, and although
-hastily-formed interference grouped itself about
-him, he was in no condition for speed, and near the
-middle of the field Bates, eluding the interference,
-pulled him to earth.</p>
-
-<p>Time was taken out for Curran and he limped
-off, Noyes taking his place. From midfield, using
-every trick she knew, the Orange began a slow advance
-toward the Blue’s goal. Yardley fought hard
-but was forced to yield. Both teams were pretty
-well tuckered and after each play substitutes flocked
-in, and with their arrival the game became more
-erratic. Penalties were dealt to each side fairly
-impartially, signals were misunderstood and the
-play became slower and slower, and at last, with
-the ball still in Brown and Young’s possession near<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_197"></a>[197]</span>
-the home team’s thirty yards, the whistle sounded
-the end of the battle.</p>
-
-<p>As unsatisfactory as the outcome was, the teams
-parted with mutual respect, and when Brown and
-Young’s supporters formed into ranks and marched
-off the field, cheering mightily, the Blue’s partisans
-had no criticism to make. As Grover Beech
-put it, as he and Toby and Sid climbed over the
-barriers and joined the throng beyond, Brown and
-Young’s had played a hard, clean game and, on her
-showing in the last half, had deserved a victory.</p>
-
-<p>“Which,” observed Sid Creel dryly, “I am
-pleased to say she didn’t get!”</p>
-
-<p>The Brown and Young’s contest ended Yardley’s
-preliminary season. Four games remained, those
-with Carrel’s, Nordham, St. John’s, and Broadwood.
-Two of these, the Carrel’s and St. John’s
-games were to be played away from home. All
-were looked on as hard battles, although it might
-well be that none would prove harder than the contest
-just played. Brown and Young’s had been underestimated,
-and it was certain that another year
-her place on the Yardley schedule would be much
-further along. Still, there were no regrets over
-that game. Yardley had showed her faults in time
-to allow the proper remedies to take effect, all of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_198"></a>[198]</span>
-her players had come through the grilling without
-serious damage and several second and third string
-players had found the opportunity to show ability.
-Will Curran’s injury was slight, it seemed, and he
-would be out of the game but a few days. Some
-over-eager Brown and Young’s man had trampled
-over his prostrate form and placed a heavy foot
-against his knee, but treatment and an elastic bandage
-would repair the damage. On the whole, Yardley
-Hall School, coach, players and noncombatants,
-were rather well satisfied with the recent engagement,
-and there was a general verdict to the effect
-that the Blue had been extremely fortunate to get
-through it without a beating.</p>
-
-<p>Arnold was somewhat downhearted for a day
-or two, maintaining sadly that the Orange’s score
-could be blamed on him, and relating the incident
-in appalling detail to Toby until the latter youth
-begged him to forget it. “No one else expected a
-forward-pass then,” said Toby, “so why should you
-have looked for one? Besides, it was up to Ted
-Halliday as much as to you. Cheer up and ease
-your face, Arn. You still have me to live for!”</p>
-
-<p>The final argument didn’t seem to make any great
-appeal to Arnold at the moment, but by Monday,
-after a light session on the gridiron, he returned to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_199"></a>[199]</span>
-his wonted cheerfulness. That Monday witnessed
-what, to Toby at least, was a most surprising event.
-He learned of it after practice when, returning to
-Number 12, he found Arnold there before him.</p>
-
-<p>“I suppose you know about the new end we’ve
-acquired,” said Arnold, smiling broadly.</p>
-
-<p>“End? No, what do you mean?”</p>
-
-<p>“What! You haven’t missed him? Such is
-fame! Ain’t it sad?”</p>
-
-<p>“What are you jabbering about?” Toby relaxed
-on the window-seat with a sigh of weariness.
-“Who haven’t I missed?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, your bosom friend, Mr. Tubbs, of course.”</p>
-
-<p>“Tubb? What about Tubb?” asked Toby suspiciously.</p>
-
-<p>“Then you don’t know! You haven’t heard the
-glad and glorious news!”</p>
-
-<p>“I have not, but if Tubb has fallen down and bitten
-his tongue——”</p>
-
-<p>“Nary a fall down, old thing! Instead, Mr.
-Tubbs—or is it Tubb? Anyway, whatever his
-poetic name may be, he has landed on his feet.”</p>
-
-<p>“Has he?” Toby sounded bored and indifferent.
-“Well, he’s been in the air long enough! In just
-what manner, Mr. Bones, has the gentleman landed
-on his feet? Whenever you consider that the suspense<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_200"></a>[200]</span>
-has lasted long enough, Arn, you have my
-permission to shoot!”</p>
-
-<p>“Prepare to faint, T. Tucker! Your friend
-Tubbs has been ruthlessly torn from your arms!
-He’s taken over to the First!”</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_201"></a>[201]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII<br />
-<small>AN “ACCIDENT”</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">A sense of duty is sometimes a most inconvenient
-thing to possess. That Monday
-night it was a sense of duty that sent
-Toby up to Number 31, and he went laggingly,
-feeling very certain that George Tubb would be
-more objectionable than ever. Tubb was not, Toby
-thought, of the kind who stands prosperity well.
-Tubb would be quite unbearable to-night: Toby
-could imagine him growling “Huh, I’d have made
-the First Team long ago if I’d had the ‘pull’ some
-fellows have!” But Toby felt that to an extent he
-was responsible for Tubb’s well-being, having in a
-manner started him out of his Slough of Despond,
-and that it was up to him to congratulate the other
-on his good fortune.</p>
-
-<p>The scene that met his eyes when he pushed the
-door open in response to an invitation to enter was
-very unlike that upon which he had gazed on the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_202"></a>[202]</span>
-occasion of his first visit to Number 31. Tubb and
-Ramsey were shoulder to shoulder, Tubb seated and
-his roommate bending over the table beside him,
-evidently elucidating some problem contained in the
-textbook that lay open before them. To all appearances
-perfect amity reigned now in Number 31!
-Nor was that the only surprise awaiting Toby.
-George Tubb was still George Tubb, and probably
-he would never be anything else, but instead of
-“grouching” because Fortune had not visited him
-earlier, or predicting the great things that were to
-happen by reason of his elevation to the First, he
-seemed loath to talk of the matter, accepting the
-visitor’s congratulation with a frown and a muttered—and
-vague—“Oh, well, I don’t know. I suppose
-it’s all right.” After that he appeared to prefer
-other topics of conversation, although Toby
-nevertheless had the impression that the matter was
-in his thoughts most of the time.</p>
-
-<p>The problem in geometry that had puzzled Tubb
-proved a diversion and Toby was able to supply
-the needed assistance, rather to his surprise since
-of late he had begun to fear that he had forgotten
-most of what he had learned during the preceding
-year! After that they talked of various subjects,
-football most of all. Tubb was ready to talk football<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_203"></a>[203]</span>
-so long as it was general, and he had a number
-of criticisms to make of last Saturday’s contest.
-With some of them Toby didn’t agree, and arguments
-followed, and Toby discovered that Tubb
-could think things out clearly and state his results
-quite convincingly when he wanted to. Horace
-Ramsey maneuvered the talk around to tennis finally
-and asked Toby’s advice about trying for the
-Tennis Team.</p>
-
-<p>“I didn’t do so badly in the handicaps last week,”
-he explained. “Got as far as the semi-finals, anyway.
-Beat two or three fellows who are considered
-rather good, too. How do you set about making
-the Team, Tucker?”</p>
-
-<p>Toby didn’t know and said so, but he promised
-to find out and let Ramsey know, and after that he
-took his departure. Both boys, without saying so
-in words, managed to convey to him the impression
-that they had enjoyed his visit and wanted him to
-come again. He went downstairs feeling very well
-pleased with himself for having performed a disagreeable
-duty and a little surprised at finding that
-it hadn’t been disagreeable after all! “I guess,” he
-told himself as he clattered down the stairs, “a
-good many disagreeable things are like that. You
-think they’re a lot worse than they are.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_204"></a>[204]</span></p>
-
-<p>The First Team paid a good deal of attention to
-defense that week, a branch of football science that
-had been somewhat neglected by Coach Lyle in favor
-of attack, and the Second was called on four
-afternoons to aid, the big team working, contrary
-to custom, quite as hard on Friday as on any other
-day. It was on Wednesday that Toby had his first
-chance to see Tubb in action with the First. Tubb
-made his entry in the middle of a very strenuous
-second half, relieving Meadows. Sandford, who had
-started the season at left end, appeared to be out of
-the running. Tubb did well. Toby was rather
-amazed at the boy’s playing, and his respect for
-Grover Beech as a judge of football talent went up
-a peg. Beech had called Tubb “a natural-born
-end,” and, while Toby had little intimate knowledge
-of end playing, he thought that Beech had been
-quite right. Tubb acted as if he had played football
-for several seasons. He appeared to have unlimited
-confidence—in fact, his confidence looked
-almost like effrontery at times—and absolutely no
-physical fear, hurling himself into every play he
-could reach regardless of consequences. He had a
-way of keeping in motion every minute while in the
-line-up that, although it was rather wearisome to
-the spectator, kept his adversary in wholesome fear.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_205"></a>[205]</span>
-And he could run like a ferret, too, and although he
-still missed tackles rather too frequently, he proved
-a thorn in the side of Toby and his team-mates
-when catching punts. Somehow, Tubb was always
-on hand when the ball had dropped into Toby’s
-arms, and if Toby squirmed himself free more than
-once it was only because Tubb had yet something
-to learn of the gentle art of tackling. Toby found
-himself a bit proud of George Tubb, quite as though
-he was personally accountable for that youth’s attainments!</p>
-
-<p>The Second went through some gruelling work
-that week, for the most part assaulting the First’s
-defenses with every art and artifice at her command.
-Time and again the ball was taken away from the
-First and handed back to the Second, the coaches
-demanding that she put it over, every one, as it
-seemed, conniving at the First Team’s humiliation.
-Perhaps once during a game the First was allowed
-to show her prowess in attack, and the rest of the
-time she was back to the wall with the Second banging
-at her center, jabbing her tackles, skirting her
-ends, trying every possible means to penetrate her
-defenses. The result showed before the end of the
-week arrived. The First developed a savage, bitter,
-every-hand-against-me attitude that worked wonders.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_206"></a>[206]</span>
-On Thursday she was thrice set her five
-yards and told to hold the opponent, and twice she
-did it, which, considering that both coaches egged
-on the Second and tried every device they could
-think of to make her attack more effective, was none
-so bad. Even on Friday, with a hard game against
-Carrel’s School looming up on the morrow, the
-First was hammered and banged about by the Second,
-which, having come in for a good many hard
-knocks and much rough usage, was in none too
-gentle a mood. It was on Friday that an incident
-occurred which, unimportant in itself, led to
-strange results.</p>
-
-<p>Frick was playing quarter on the Second and
-Tubb had taken the place of an exhausted Meadows
-at left end on the First. First, unable to gain her
-distance in three downs in midfield, punted and the
-ball fell to Frick in front of Second’s goal. Both
-Tubb and Halliday had got free and were well under
-the ball as it arched down the field, but Halliday
-fell victim to Deering, leaving Tubb to look after
-Frick alone. Frick made the catch a moment before
-Tubb arrived on the scene and set off to his
-right in the hope of skirting the enemy pouring
-down the middle of the field. Tubb gave chase, running
-him off. Frick feinted but Tubb wasn’t fooled.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_207"></a>[207]</span>
-Had the quarter-back been able to get free soon
-after making the catch he might have reeled off a
-good gain, for the gridiron to his right was practically
-unguarded, but Tubb had him so well blocked
-that there was no getting by and it was only when
-the side-line came dangerously near that Frick made
-a despairing effort to turn in. He pulled up suddenly
-and tried to dash past Tubb, but the First
-Team end was quicker than he was. Avoiding the
-runner’s straight-arm, Tubb dived and, for once,
-dived surely. He didn’t have to hold his man after
-the tackle, for by that time he had plenty of help,
-and Frick was speedily flattened out. On his feet
-again, Frick was very angry indeed, and panted insults
-and threats at Tubb’s retreating back until
-Beech silenced him.</p>
-
-<p>Unaware that he had aroused Frick’s wrath,
-Tubb trotted back to his position. Two savage
-attacks on the First Team’s line netted but four
-yards and then Stover punted. Tubb was spilled
-trying to stop the opposing end and was climbing to
-his feet when the Second’s stragglers streamed past.
-Among them was Frick, for some reason later in
-getting down the field than he should have been.
-Only a few saw what happened as Frick reached
-Tubb, for most eyes were fixed on Noyes as he got<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_208"></a>[208]</span>
-under the ball. Toby, however, saw from where he
-sat on the bench, for Frick’s performance was of
-more interest to him than any one’s else, and just
-now Toby was wondering why his rival was almost
-the last in the pursuit. Tubb, in the act of raising
-himself from the ground, did not see Frick’s approach,
-nor, since he was unsuspecting, would he
-have heeded it if he had seen it. Frick had set a
-course that led him past the other, and now, as he
-reached him, he swerved a pace and brought one
-heavily-shod foot against Tubb’s ribs just under
-the left shoulder. It was as deliberate a thing as
-Toby had ever seen, and unconsciously he jumped
-to his feet with an exclamation of disgust. Tubb,
-supported at the moment on his left hand, dropped
-instantly to the turf and rolled over on his back,
-his legs drawn up in pain. Frick was already well
-down the field. Toby and Lovett, a substitute end,
-ran on together. Tubb was white-faced and gasping,
-both hands clasped to his side.</p>
-
-<p>“Some one—kicked me,” he whispered. “I’ll be—all
-right in a—minute.”</p>
-
-<p>“It was Frick,” exclaimed Lovett indignantly.
-“I saw it. He ought to get chucked!”</p>
-
-<p>“Frick!” gasped Tubb wonderingly. “What—for?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_209"></a>[209]</span></p>
-
-<p>By that time Andy Ryan was there with pail and
-sponge and Toby and Lovett went back to the
-bench, the latter still sputtering.</p>
-
-<p>“He’s a poisonous pup, anyway, Tucker, and I
-hope Tubb goes after him and gets him for that!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I wouldn’t say much about it,” counseled
-Toby. “It’ll only make trouble. It’s between the
-two of them now. Let them settle it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Sure, it isn’t my funeral,” Lovett agreed,
-“though I don’t see why you’re so anxious about
-Frick. If Mr. Burtis had seen it Frick would be
-off for keeps, and you’d have quarter-back cinched,
-Tucker.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I don’t want to cinch it that way, I guess.
-Besides, it may have been an accident. I know it
-didn’t look it, but——”</p>
-
-<p>“Accident your great-aunt!” jeered the other.
-“Why, Frick went out of his way to do it! And
-he sure took a chance. I’ll give him that much
-credit. If any one but you and I had seen it—Good-night,
-Mr. Frick!”</p>
-
-<p>“Guess he knew every one would be looking the
-other way. Tubb’s up and Andy’s taking him off.
-Hope he didn’t get a broken rib. That was a fierce
-wallop he got!”</p>
-
-<p>“I’d hand Roy Frick a fierce wallop if it was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_210"></a>[210]</span>
-me,” growled Lovett. “I’d hand him about two
-dozen of ’em!”</p>
-
-<p>Tubb was helped into his sweater and sent back
-to the gymnasium and the game went on. Since
-Frick played the half out at quarter, Toby judged
-that none had witnessed the incident save he and
-Lovett. Toby forgot it later, for in the last fifteen-minute
-half he went in on the Second and had his
-hands and his mind too full of other things. But
-that some one still remembered was evident when
-Toby got back to his room after practice. George
-Tubb had left a note.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>Dear Tucker: If you have time will you come up
-to my room a minute after supper? I want to see you
-about something. G. W. T.</p></div>
-
-<p>Toby guessed what the something was and wondered
-whether he was to be asked to bear a challenge
-to Roy Frick! He rather wished that Tubb had
-selected some one else to consult, but he went nevertheless,
-climbing the second flight in Whitson as
-soon after supper as he judged Tubb had returned
-to Number 31. He found both Tubb and Ramsey
-at home, but Horace went out after a few minutes,
-possibly by request. Tubb, reflected Toby, was
-quite a different looking boy from the one whose
-cut lip he had plastered on the train that afternoon<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_211"></a>[211]</span>
-some five weeks ago. For one thing, he looked a
-deal cleaner! And he was rather more carefully
-dressed. But the real change was deeper, Toby
-thought. Tubb’s attitude toward his fellows and
-his school life had undergone a change already, and
-the end was not yet; and the fact was manifested
-in his expression and his speech. Tubb had gained
-in self-respect, Toby concluded. Physically, too,
-he had altered, and for the better, for football work
-had straightened his shoulders, made his flesh look
-harder and his eyes clearer and removed the unhealthy
-pallor from his face. On the whole, Toby
-got quite a lot of satisfaction from his study of
-George W. Tubb this evening.</p>
-
-<p>But it was a very serious Tubb who confronted
-Toby when the door had closed behind Horace
-Ramsey. There was very evidently something on
-the Tubb mind. Toby waited in silence and after
-a moment Tubb began. “That fellow with you this
-afternoon—Lovett, wasn’t it?—said it was Frick
-who kicked me in the side. Did you see him do it,
-Tucker?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why—well, yes, I did, Tubb. Of course it was
-probably an accident——”</p>
-
-<p>“How could it have been?” Tubb’s old scowl returned
-for an instant. “He had the whole field,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_212"></a>[212]</span>
-didn’t he? He needn’t have run over me! No, I
-guess what happened was that he got mad because
-I stopped him from running the punt back that
-time. I guess he’s got a bad temper, Frick. Well,
-anyway, what I wanted to ask you is this. What’s
-the right way to go after him? They say faculty
-won’t stand for fighting, but of course a fellow’s got
-to pull a scrap sometimes. I’m going to get Frick
-for this, but I don’t want to get fired, you see. He
-isn’t worth it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Of course he isn’t,” agreed Toby heartily. “And
-I’m afraid you would get—well, maybe not fired,
-Tubb, but put on probation at least if faculty found
-out.”</p>
-
-<p>“And probation would lose me my place on the
-team, wouldn’t it? That’s what I supposed. Well,
-then, how would you go about it, Tucker? So as
-not to be nabbed, I mean.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I don’t know. Why not—well, why not
-forget it, Tubb? After all a fellow who does things
-like that harms himself more than he does any one
-else, and——”</p>
-
-<p>“Yah!” interrupted Tubb rudely. “Sunday
-school stuff, Tucker! I’ll bet you wouldn’t talk that
-way if it was you who had half a dozen sore ribs
-some guy had given you!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_213"></a>[213]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Well, maybe I wouldn’t,” granted Toby, “but
-I’d hesitate a long time before I’d risk probation
-for the sake of fighting him! And that’s what
-you’d better do.”</p>
-
-<p>“Listen here, Tucker,” replied the other earnestly.
-“I’m going to get even with that fellow. I
-didn’t give him any cause to kick my ribs in. Even
-if I had, he’d no right to do it when I was down
-like that. What I want to know is how you fight
-a fellow here. I guess there are fights: I never
-heard of a school where they didn’t pull ’em off now
-and then.” Tubb viewed Toby hopefully.</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe there are,” said Toby, “but I’ve never
-seen one. I suppose fellows get off by themselves
-somewhere sometimes,” he continued vaguely. “But
-if faculty hears of it——”</p>
-
-<p>“Have to risk that,” said Tubb, more cheerfully.
-He was silent a moment. Then: “Of course what
-I wanted to do was wait around at the gym this
-afternoon and hand him a few, but I had a hunch
-that Lyle or some one would be there and get
-peeved. So I didn’t. Then this evening I caught
-him grinning at me in commons once. That grin’s
-going to cost him something, believe me, Tucker!”</p>
-
-<p>“But look here, Tubb,” said Toby practically,
-“Frick’s two years older than you, I guess, and he’s<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_214"></a>[214]</span>
-bigger and heavier, and fellows say he’s a scrapper.
-I don’t know how good you are, but——” Toby
-cast a dubious glance over the other’s rather meager
-frame—“it’s something to think about, isn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>“How long did you think about it when Frick got
-gay with you down at the field the other day?”
-asked Tubb, with a twinkle in his eye.</p>
-
-<p>“Not at all,” answered Toby, smiling. “But
-then, there wasn’t time!”</p>
-
-<p>“Huh! Well, don’t you worry about me, Tucker.
-I can handle that big bully. I’ve had to scrap all
-my life, pretty near, and I know the tricks. Besides,
-I’ve got right on my side, ain’t—haven’t I?
-And that counts, doesn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>“It ought to,” the other agreed, “but I wouldn’t
-count too much on it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Where does Frick room?” asked Tubb after a
-moment.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know.” Toby frowned a minute.
-Then: “Look here, Tubb, let’s talk sense,” he expostulated.
-“Never mind whether faculty finds out
-or doesn’t. You say you’re willing to risk that.
-But if you beat Frick up or if he beats you up, Tom
-Fanning will hear of it, even if the coaches don’t.
-And Fanning will drop you from the team like a—a
-hot potato!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_215"></a>[215]</span></p>
-
-<p>“I don’t see why he should,” Tubb objected.
-“It’s not his affair, Tucker.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why isn’t it? It’s his affair if you or any other
-fellow on the team breaks training. If Frick lays
-you up for a day or two——”</p>
-
-<p>“Huh! Like to see him do it!”</p>
-
-<p>“Never mind, it’s possible. You’d be a fat lot of
-use to the team, wouldn’t you? Well, that’s where
-it becomes Fan’s business, Tubb. Just as long as
-you’re on the team it’s your duty to go by the rules.”</p>
-
-<p>“Is there any rule saying you mustn’t knock a
-fellow down after he’s kicked you in the slats?”</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t be a chump! No, there isn’t, but there’s
-a general rule that says you must keep yourself in
-trim so you’ll be able to do your best for the team
-and the school. And when you fight another chap
-you’re taking chances you haven’t the right to take.
-Besides, Tubb, there’s another thing. You’re disturbing
-the—the——”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, didn’t Frick disturb the same thing, whatever
-it is, when he kicked me this afternoon?
-Think he helped keep me in trim, like you say?
-Well, I don’t!”</p>
-
-<p>“Frick took an awful chance and got away with
-it, but I don’t think that’s any reason you should.
-Hang it, Tubb, you’ve made the First Team and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_216"></a>[216]</span>
-you’ve got a great chance of playing against Broadwood,
-and that’s something a lot of fellows would
-give their eye-teeth for! Don’t go and spoil it by
-having a mix-up with this chap. If you must get
-even with him, wait until the football season’s over,
-anyway. He won’t get away.”</p>
-
-<p>Tubb scowled. “I might forget it by that time,”
-he objected.</p>
-
-<p>Toby laughed. “All the better then! Take a
-chance on that, anyhow. Will you?”</p>
-
-<p>Tubb hesitated, the scowl still lingering. At last:
-“I might,” he answered, “I’ll see.” Then, after
-a moment: “I’d sort of hate to lose my job with
-the team, Tucker,” he said frankly, “and that’s
-a fact. You could have knocked me flat with a
-feather when they yanked me onto the First. I—I
-guess I talked a lot of rot about ‘pull’ and that sort
-of thing, because there wasn’t any pull about my
-getting on the First, was there? It was just my
-playing. Not that I think I’m anything wonderful,
-Tucker. Halliday’s better than I am, and maybe
-Meadows is, too, but I’m going to beat him out
-for the place if I bust a leg doing it!”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s the way to talk,” approved Toby warmly.
-“And if you feel that way about it, Tubb, I don’t<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_217"></a>[217]</span>
-see how you can think of risking your chance.
-Why, Frick isn’t worth it!”</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe that’s so,” agreed Tubb thoughtfully.
-“Just the same, if that pup looks cross-eyed at me
-again, or tries to get fresh——”</p>
-
-<p>“Keep out of his way,” laughed Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“Huh! I guess not! He’d think I was scared of
-him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Let him. After the Broadwood game you can
-show him you’re not. That’s a bargain, then?”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t promise,” said Tubb, “but as long as he
-behaves himself I guess I’ll let him alone. Say,
-Tucker, I suppose you wouldn’t want to—to sort
-of explain to him how it is, eh? So he wouldn’t
-think he was getting away with it!”</p>
-
-<p>“Frankly, I would not, Tubb,” answered Toby,
-smiling. “Just forget all about him and remember
-Broadwood. That’s your game!”</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_218"></a>[218]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII<br />
-<small>A QUARTER-BACK RUN</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">The Second Team had a schedule of its
-own, although it wasn’t very lengthy. It
-consisted of two games, the first with
-Greenburg High School and the second with Latimer
-High School. The Greenburg game came off
-the afternoon that the First played Carrel’s, and
-in consequence Toby missed the latter contest. He
-didn’t mind that, however, for he had a busy and
-enjoyable time in Greenburg. Besides, he got the
-full and detailed story of the Carrel game from
-Arnold that evening and the next day and for one
-or two days after that. Arnold was very full of
-football just now and threatened to be somewhat of
-a bore until the Broadwood contest was done with!</p>
-
-<p>The Greenburg athletic field lay on the side of
-town away from the river and Yardley and was a
-rather uneven piece of turf enclosed by a dilapidated
-high board fence. There was a running
-track, badly in need of cinders and attention, two<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_219"></a>[219]</span>
-weather-stained stands and an unpainted shack that
-did duty as a dressing-room. The game was not
-very important from a Greenburg standpoint, and
-the attendance this afternoon was not large. Usually
-Greenburg won from the Yardley Second
-Team without much difficulty, and although this fall
-High School had heard stories of unusual prowess
-on the Second Team’s part she was still not much
-worried. Being a half holiday at the various mills
-and factories, of which Greenburg held many, the
-“tough” element of the town—or city, since that is
-what Greenburg officially was—was well represented.
-The mill operatives who had paid their
-quarters for admittance to the game were strongly
-pro-High School in their sympathies. Or perhaps
-it would be nearer the truth to say that they were
-enthusiastically anti-Yardley. In their belief all
-Yardley students were silk-stockinged snobs, which,
-while far from the fact, was enough to set the mill
-crowd against the school. They came supplied with
-peanuts and, perhaps a hundred in number, took
-possession of one of the small, tumble-down stands
-and made their presence known right from the start.
-But aside from shouting weird cheers for Greenburg,
-singing, parodying the Yardley slogan in
-mincing falsetto and shying an occasional peanut<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_220"></a>[220]</span>
-at the visitors’ bench in front of them, they kept the
-peace during most of the game.</p>
-
-<p>Captain Beech wanted to win to-day’s contest,
-since last year High School had caught the Blue
-team in a slump and triumphed decisively over it by
-a memorable score of 38 to 6, and so, with Coach
-Burtis’s permission, the Second started with the
-best line-up she could devise. Mr. Burtis had
-awarded himself a vacation and gone home over the
-week-end, leaving the captain in undisputed authority.
-Toby didn’t get into the game until the third
-period was well along, for Frick, who had started
-it, played his best and a touchdown by Yardley in
-the first five minutes of play gave the visitors an
-advantage that the home team was not able to overcome
-in the initial half. The Blue defense was too
-much for the High School eleven although the latter
-had plenty of talent in its ranks and played a stiff,
-hard attack. On the other hand, Yardley had her
-troubles with the High School line, and that single
-touchdown had been more than half luck. A fortunate
-forward pass from the middle of the field
-had put the Blue within striking distance of High
-School’s goal and a penalty for holding had given
-her five yards more. Then Frick had fumbled and
-Nelson had followed the trickling ball back, and,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_221"></a>[221]</span>
-having captured it, found a chance around High
-School’s left. He should have been stopped half a
-dozen times, but somehow he sifted through the
-enemy ranks and landed the pigskin up against the
-left-hand post before he was brought down.</p>
-
-<p>High School accepted her mishap cheerfully and
-set to work to do a little scoring on her own behalf,
-but the half ended without the ball’s having approached
-either goal again. The second half was
-eight minutes old when Captain Beech found that
-Frick’s work was becoming slow and uncertain and
-sent him off. High School had forced the ball to
-Yardley’s thirty-one yards and still had possession
-when Toby went in. He was followed a minute
-later by Lovett, who was called on to strengthen the
-right end of the Blue’s line, around which High
-School had made several gains since the period had
-begun. Lovett, however, proved no more able to
-stop those gains than had Connell, and High School
-swept on to the Blue’s twenty-yard-line in three
-plays and set her supporters shouting triumphantly.
-With the cheers of the High School students came
-approving yells from the mill contingent; hoarse
-cries of “Eat ’em up, Greenburg!” “Kill the sissies!”
-“Put it over, Greenburg!” Then, with a
-score almost won, the High School left end was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_222"></a>[222]</span>
-caught hugging Stover affectionately to his breast,
-and High School was set back fifteen yards. The
-mill hands didn’t approve of that and made it
-known loudly and continuously, hissing and whistling
-and hurling sarcastic remarks at the referee.
-After two plays which netted only short gains, High
-School tried a drop-kick from her thirty yards and
-failed badly.</p>
-
-<p>The mill operatives still had hurt feelings and
-were now howling continuously. The referee was
-accused of favoritism, treachery and several other
-faults, and Yardley of being “pikers” and “yellow
-dogs.” Matters became no more peaceful when
-Toby, getting the kick-off just short of his five-yard-line,
-dodged it back to his twenty-three. Watson
-went in for Sid Creel at center a minute or two
-later and Toby began a systematic assault on High
-School’s middle positions. Stover gained consistently
-and White ploughed through less frequently
-but for longer gains. High School changed center
-and left guard and Toby switched his attack to
-the right guard and tackle. There, however, he had
-less luck, and, well into High School territory now,
-he called for a forward, and White, from kicking
-position, threw successfully to Mawson on High
-School’s nineteen, a long hard heave that brought<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_223"></a>[223]</span>
-applause even from the enemy. Mawson reached
-the sixteen yards before he was tackled and the
-fourteen before he was stopped.</p>
-
-<p>The third period ended and the teams changed
-sides. High School fought desperately to hold her
-opponent and the attack was thrice piled up for little
-or no gain. Choosing between the possible loss of
-the ball and a possible three points from a field-goal,
-Toby selected the latter and Beech went back
-for the kick. But High School tore through the
-Yardley left and blocked the ball sufficiently to deflect
-it harmlessly to the right. That incident gladdened
-the mill hands considerably and they cheered
-hoarsely.</p>
-
-<p>High School tried a forward-pass on first down
-and got away with it for twelve yards. Plunges at
-the line netted her a second first down. Three subsequent
-attacks left her four yards shy of her distance
-and she punted to Yardley’s thirty. There
-Stover caught and ran back to the thirty-seven. He
-was hurt in the tackle and gave place to Lippman.
-Toby tried a quarter-back run after a delayed pass
-and made a scanty five yards after going half across
-the field. High School held against two plunges
-and White punted outside at the enemy’s twenty-eight.
-High School uncorked a puzzling open formation<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_224"></a>[224]</span>
-play that sent the full-back around her short
-end without interference and almost got him free.
-But Lippman secured the runner after a fifteen-yard
-advance. A forward-pass went wrong and,
-after attempting each end, High School punted.
-Lippman juggled the catch, recovered it and was
-downed for no gain on his twenty yards. Toby
-called on White and made seven straight through
-High School’s center, and Lippman went outside
-right tackle for four more and the distance. Then,
-with the end of the game drawing near, Lippman
-punted on second down from his thirty to High
-School’s thirty-eight. Again the latter tried her
-open formation play, but this time Yardley was
-prepared and the runner was downed for an eight-yard
-loss. A forward-pass gave High School ten
-and a wide end run two more. Then came Waterloo,
-for a High School back, plunging toward the
-Yardley right tackle, lost the pigskin as he struck
-the line and the ball bounded merrily into the air,
-crossed the heaving lines and was pulled down by
-Nelson.</p>
-
-<p>The best the Blue’s left half could do was hold
-tight to his prize, for half the opposing team was
-on top of him in the moment. But it was Yardley’s
-ball on High School’s forty-nine yards, and,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_225"></a>[225]</span>
-with less than two minutes remaining, the game was
-as good as won. Captain Beech ran in four substitutes,
-about all he had left, and on the first play,
-one of them, Crawford, at full-back, went through
-the Greenburg line like a streak of lightning and
-dodged all but the quarter-back, planting the ball
-on High School’s thirty-two yards when he was
-captured. A penalty for off-side on the next play
-set Yardley back, but Lippman carried the pigskin
-around left end for three and Crawford made three
-more, and, on fourth down, faking a kick from
-placement, Toby took the ball and scampered off
-around the Greenburg right behind good interference
-and might have crossed the goal line had he
-not, as he put it later, fallen over his own feet!
-The stumble allowed a pursuing High School player
-to drag him down six yards short of the last white
-streak.</p>
-
-<p>Then came a heart-stirring climax to a contest
-that had never failed of interest. The stands had
-emptied ere this and the audience had been following
-the game along the side-lines. Now it congregated
-at the corner of the field nearest the play, flowing
-over onto the gridiron in spite of the efforts of a few
-ineffectual officials. In the front of the throng were
-the mill operatives, noisy and unfriendly to the besiegers,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_226"></a>[226]</span>
-more than willing, it seemed, to take a
-hand in the game. Toby and Grover Beech consulted
-while the crowd jeered and hooted. Toby
-wanted to try a forward-pass over the line, but Captain
-Beech was fearful of it save as a last resort,
-and it was decided to batter the opponent’s line so
-long as gains resulted and then, faking a try-at-goal,
-attempt a short pass over the center.</p>
-
-<p>Toby called on Crawford and sent him banging
-at the enemy’s guard-tackle hole on the left. But
-the hole didn’t develop and the gain was less than a
-yard. Beech sent Crawford out and brought in
-Lansing, a heavy youngster whose slowness had
-kept him on the bench most of the season. The
-unfriendly critics, edging over the bounds, made
-scurrilous remarks anent Lansing’s personal appearance
-and had that poor youth, already made
-nervous by the honor so unexpectedly thrust upon
-him, a mass of blushes by the time he was in position.
-But blushes didn’t take away from Lansing’s
-weight or strength, and, with Lippman carrying the
-pigskin, Lansing thrust the runner through for
-three of the remaining five yards. There was some
-rough playing in that fracas, and Toby discovered
-that he had sustained a very ensanguined nose. On
-third down, with just over two yards to go, Lippman<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_227"></a>[227]</span>
-tried a cross-buck and squirmed over the
-crouched backs of the foe for another three feet,
-amidst an appalling shouting from the belligerent
-onlookers. The mill contingent was now so close
-behind the defenders that it was hard to tell who
-was a player and who a spectator, and Captain
-Beech called for time and pointed out the fact.
-The Greenburg players tried to push the throng
-back, but, although it good-naturedly shuffled a few
-yards away, it pressed forward once more as soon
-as the teams again lined up. The referee and umpire
-scolded and threatened to call the game, but
-were only hooted at. To the credit of the High
-School students present it may be said that they did
-nothing to encourage the mill hands and themselves
-remained, if not outside the field, at least away from
-the scene of play. In the end, finding pleas and
-threats alike idle, the referee let the game go on.</p>
-
-<p>“We’ll never score against that mob,” whispered
-Beech disgustedly to Toby. “They’ll jump in and
-push us back. Might as well call it off. I don’t
-want any mix-up with those muckers!”</p>
-
-<p>Toby nodded agreement, viewing the grinning,
-inimical countenances grouped behind the opposing
-line thoughtfully. Then: “Let me work this, cap,
-will you? I think there’s just one chance!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_228"></a>[228]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Go ahead,” said Beech, “but you’ll never make
-a forward with that gang back there to get in the
-way.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, a forward’s no good, but—Signals! Come
-on now, Yardley! One more punch! Signals!
-31—51—27——”</p>
-
-<p>“<em>Signals!</em>” cried Lippman wildly, questioningly.</p>
-
-<p>“Shut up!” hissed Toby. “Change signals! 61—54—27—9!
-61—54——”</p>
-
-<p>Forward plunged the backs, away sped Toby,
-scuttling along the back of the short line, the ball
-snuggled in his elbow. Cries and grunts and the
-rasping of canvas-clad bodies filled the air. Then a
-shriek from an excited, despairing high school spectator:
-“<em>There he goes! Get him, you mutts!</em>”</p>
-
-<p>The play had been close to the left-hand corner
-of the field and the onlookers had crowded there,
-along the side-line for a short distance, but principally
-back of the goal-line. At the other side of the
-goal, save for a sprinkling of High School girls and
-their escorts, the field was clear. Toward this side
-of the gridiron sped Toby. Only Lovett, throwing
-his opponent in as he plunged through, went with
-him. But the right end was sufficient. A Greenburg
-back met him and the two sprawled to the turf
-together, and Toby, turning on his heel, headed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_229"></a>[229]</span>
-swiftly in. A yard or two short of the line he
-dodged the only remaining opposition, a despairing
-High School quarter, and circled back toward the
-goal. But now there were plenty to challenge. A
-High School player clutched at him and missed and
-then Toby found himself in a struggling sea of
-angry mill operatives. Farquhar tried to reach him,
-but was pushed aside, and a dozen hands fought for
-the ball. Toby clung to it as tightly as he could and
-sought to fight his way forward, but the crowd was
-ugly. Some one struck him on the mouth and, as
-his head went back, the ball was dislodged. The
-yells about him merged in a laugh of triumph and,
-shoved aside, he sank to the ground, while the mill
-crowd went piling off toward the entrance, the ball
-in their possession. None tried to stop them.</p>
-
-<p>The officials allowed the touchdown, but Captain
-Beech, helping a battered Toby to his feet, declined
-the privilege of trying goal with another ball.
-“Had enough, thanks,” he said coldly. Then, to
-an apologetic and regretful Greenburg Captain:
-“This is the last game you fellows will get with us,
-Townsend. Come on, Yardley! Never mind the
-cheer!”</p>
-
-<p>Toby was not the only one of the visiting team
-who had sustained a memento of that closing minute.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_230"></a>[230]</span>
-Three other fellows who had sought to reach
-him had been punched, or kicked, and, including
-such slighter injuries as had fallen to the Yardley
-Second during the game, it was a somewhat messed
-up aggregation that journeyed back to Wissining
-that afternoon. The last they saw of the mill hands
-they were having a remarkable football game with
-the stolen ball in the road outside the field, too busy
-to more than hoot at the visitors as they passed.</p>
-
-<p>“I’d like to fetch a couple of dozen more fellows
-down here and wipe the ground up with them,”
-muttered Beech. “Bet you that’s our last game with
-Greenburg for awhile, Toby.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby didn’t offer to accept the wager, which was
-fortunate for his modest resources since, a few days
-later, the Yardley faculty, having probed the incident,
-struck Greenburg High School from the list of
-approved opponents.</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_231"></a>[231]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX<br />
-<small>ARNOLD HAS A THOUGHT</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">The First Team came back hard that afternoon,
-rolling up a total of 25 points
-against Carrel’s and holding the opponent
-to a single touchdown. Yardley scored in each period,
-starting in the first with a field-goal shortly
-after play began, adding a touchdown and goal in
-the second, a touchdown in the third and another
-field-goal and touchdown in the last. Carrel’s did
-her scoring in the third period, following a fumble
-in the back-field by Quarterback Noyes. Securing
-the ball on Yardley’s twenty-two yards, the visitor
-worked a double pass that sent her full-back romping
-over the line without much opposition. She
-failed at an easy goal, however, and had to be content
-with six points.</p>
-
-<p>Of course Toby heard all this and much more
-from Arnold that evening, for Arnold was as full
-of the game’s details as a plum-pudding is full of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_232"></a>[232]</span>
-raisins—or ought to be! But it was after Toby
-had sketched the Second Team’s fracas with the
-mill hands, for Toby’s face demanded an explanation.
-Besides a contused nose, honestly earned in
-combat, he had a large lump on his left cheek bone.
-“Some day, maybe,” he said wistfully, “I’m going
-to meet up with the fellow who handed me that.
-When I do, if it isn’t in church, I’m going to hand
-it back to him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Think you’d know him?” asked Arnold.
-“Thought you said it was a mob, and that——”</p>
-
-<p>“It was a mob, but I saw the chap that walloped
-me. Yes, I’ll know him all right if only by his
-hair.”</p>
-
-<p>“What about his hair?”</p>
-
-<p>“It was——” Toby hesitated—“it was red!”</p>
-
-<p>Arnold whooped delightedly. “What do you
-know? Honest, Toby? Say, I’d like to have seen
-that! Red against—hm——”</p>
-
-<p>“Say it,” said Toby, grinning. “His was redder
-than mine, too, and that’s going some! And he had
-freckles all over his nose and looked like one of
-those tough boys in the movies. Yes, I’ll know him.
-Don’t you worry.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, you’d better bathe that lump he gave you.
-It makes you look sort of lopsided. In fact, T.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_233"></a>[233]</span>
-Tucker, that and your nose give you a positively
-villainous appearance! Frank’s got a hard-looking
-phiz to-night, too. Some one put a foot on it, he
-says. I told him he should be more careful and
-not leave his face lying around on the ground, but
-it didn’t seem to make a hit with him. Some folks
-are like that; can’t take advice for a cent. Say,
-Toby, old thing, it was some game. Listen! They
-won the toss and gave us the kick-off and Larry——”</p>
-
-<p>Arnold had started, and Toby laid back on the
-window-seat and hugged his knees and said “Uh-huh”
-at intervals and listened as attentively as he
-could. But presently he got to thinking about his
-morrow’s letter home, and then about that scholarship
-after the mid-year, and was yanked back to the
-present by Arnold’s: “Isn’t that the very dickens,
-Toby?”</p>
-
-<p>“Huh? Oh, yes, mighty tough! Who did you
-say did it?”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know who did it! What do you mean,
-did it? It was the hurt he got in the Brown and
-Young’s game, I tell you. They thought it was all
-right, and they took the bandage off and everything,
-and then to-day he just gave it a twist or something!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_234"></a>[234]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Who did?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, Curran! Say, haven’t you heard anything
-I’ve been saying?”</p>
-
-<p>“Of course! But you talk so fast! As I understand
-it, Curran got hurt in last Saturday’s game
-and to-day he twisted his ankle——”</p>
-
-<p>“It’s his knee, you idiot!”</p>
-
-<p>“I meant knee; and had to quit playing. Who
-went in for him?”</p>
-
-<p>“Errol Noyes. He did well enough except for
-a fumble that gave them their score. If it hadn’t
-been for that we’d have——”</p>
-
-<p>“Fumbles will happen in the best regulated back-fields,”
-murmured Toby. “I think Noyes is pretty
-good, myself.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m not saying he isn’t,” answered Arnold impatiently,
-“but, man-alive, he isn’t in Will’s class!
-And if Will doesn’t get back——”</p>
-
-<p>“Doesn’t get back! Who says he won’t get
-back?”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s what Fanning thinks. He’s all cut-up
-about it. They’re going to take an X-ray to-morrow.
-The doc thinks he will have to keep off it for
-a month.”</p>
-
-<p>“Gee, that is tough! I didn’t realize what you
-meant! Of course, Noyes isn’t the player that Curran<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_235"></a>[235]</span>
-is, but he’s pretty good. Who else have you
-got?”</p>
-
-<p>“Winfield, but he’s no earthly use.” Arnold was
-gloomily silent for a moment. Then he gave vent
-to an explosive: “<em>By jingo, Toby!</em>”</p>
-
-<p>“What?” Toby brought a startled gaze back from
-the darkening world outside the window. Arnold
-was staring at him fixedly.</p>
-
-<p>“Nothing,” answered Arnold slowly. But he
-kept on staring in a curious, rapt way until Toby
-said in a patient, kindly voice: “It’s all right, Arn.
-It’s me, Toby. I room here with you, you know.
-That’s my bed over there. Don’t you remember
-me? Try to think, Arn!”</p>
-
-<p>“Shut up,” laughed the other. “I—I just thought
-of something.”</p>
-
-<p>“Try to forget it then,” Toby advised. “You
-looked like a sick cow. Say, you—you didn’t get
-a blow on the head this afternoon, did you? Sometimes
-an injury of that sort—But no, it wouldn’t
-affect you that way. That dome of yours would
-just give forth a hollow sound——”</p>
-
-<p>“Listen,” interrupted Arnold earnestly. “If Curran
-<em>is</em> out of the game for the rest of the season,
-why, don’t you see what might happen?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_236"></a>[236]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Yes, we might get licked by Broadwood. Still,
-we may anyhow, so what’s the good of——”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, use your bean! We’ll have to find a substitute
-for Noyes, of course! Maybe Mr. Lyle will
-try Clarke. Sim’s not much of an end, and he
-played quarter some last year. But then again he
-might go to the Second for what he needs.”</p>
-
-<p>“Who, Clarke?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, Mr. Lyle, you ninny. And if he did he
-might pick you, T. Tucker!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, and he might not,” jeered Toby. “Frick’s
-got first call, you poor old dummy.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m not so sure! I’ve heard that you were
-doing just as good work as Frick, Toby.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, you hear a lot of things if you let your
-ears flap,” answered Toby rudely.</p>
-
-<p>“The idea doesn’t interest you, then?” asked
-Arnold sarcastically.</p>
-
-<p>“I wouldn’t say that,” Toby replied, getting a
-new grip on his knees. “I have a comprehensive
-intellect, Arn, and all sorts of things that wouldn’t
-appeal to ordinary minds——”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, go to thunder! I hope Frick does get it,
-you poor fish!”</p>
-
-<p>“May the best man win,” said Toby cheerfully.
-“Them’s my sentiments. Come on. Let’s eat.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_237"></a>[237]</span></p>
-
-<p>By Monday it was pretty generally known that
-Will Curran was lost to the football team for the
-rest of the season. The injury to his knee sustained
-in the Brown and Young’s game had proved far
-more serious than at first supposed and an X-ray
-examination had shown that a cast was necessary.
-To be sure, the Greenburg surgeon, called into consultation
-by the school doctor, spoke vaguely of
-“benefits reasonably to be expected from a fortnight’s
-care,” but no one was fooled, least of all
-Curran. By the middle of the week he was out on
-crutches, but he was there to help in the coaching
-of the backs and not to play. The blow was a sore
-one to the school, and for several days gloom a
-foot thick hung over it. Then, since Coach Lyle
-went on about his business of developing a winning
-football team quite as cheerfully and whole-heartedly
-as ever, and since Errol Noyes buckled down and
-worked like a Trojan to fill Curran’s shoes, the
-gloom thinned out and vanished altogether. After
-all, the reports from Broadwood were far from
-disheartening: not the newspaper stuff written by
-the Broadwood correspondents, but the underground
-rumors that percolated somehow from the
-rival school through Greenburg and thence up the
-hill to Yardley. Broadwood was but three miles<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_238"></a>[238]</span>
-beyond Greenburg, and since her students came to
-that town for purchases and amusement, just as
-Yardley fellows did, stories were bound to leak out.
-The local rumors just now had it that Broadwood
-was having much difficulty in filling her back-field
-with the right material. In fact, the rumors were
-borne out by the evidence of the last two contests
-in which the Green had taken part. For Broadwood
-to be defeated by Franklin was something
-unheard of and unthought of, but that had happened
-two weeks since. And last Saturday, in the
-Nordham game, she had managed to squeeze
-through to victory by a mere seven points. So, as
-the more optimistic of the Yardley enthusiasts
-pointed out, even the loss of Curran was not sufficient
-cause for conceding a Broadwood victory.</p>
-
-<p>Coach Lyle did as Arnold had surmised he might
-do. He took Sim Clarke from the ranks of the end
-substitutes and turned him back into a quarter, and
-it was generally allowed that, with Curran coaching
-him, Sim might develop into a valuable player.
-Meanwhile, Noyes worked fairly satisfactorily. Indeed,
-in the Nordham game the next Saturday he
-ran the team so well that even Tom Fanning took
-heart and stopped predicting to a few close friends—comprising
-most of the team!—a victory for the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_239"></a>[239]</span>
-rival school. Toby heard from Sid Creel that Roy
-Frick was so certain of being taken to the First that
-he had tried to persuade Phil Stone to give him the
-First Team signal code! That, Frick had explained,
-was so he could take hold without loss of time.
-Toby had not put much value on Arnold’s suggestion
-that one T. Tucker might be elevated to the
-varsity ranks and consequently was not at all disappointed.</p>
-
-<p>The Second took a beating every time it went
-against the First nowadays, for the latter was fast
-rounding into late season form. Now and again
-it managed to throw a scare into Coach Lyle’s bunch,
-but that is the best it could do. Ordinarily, if it
-kept the First to two scores, or managed to score
-itself, it swaggered quite sickeningly. Toby and
-Frick still struggled for supremacy, with little to
-choose between them, it seemed. Frick undoubtedly
-excelled Toby in individual work, being surer in
-tackling and in running with the ball. On the other
-hand, Toby was rather more steady when it came
-to catching punts and could get more out of the
-team. Perhaps the latter ability was due to the
-fact that he was far better liked than Frick.</p>
-
-<p>The Yardley-Nordham game was uninteresting
-save as it gave the Blue a chance to study comparative<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_240"></a>[240]</span>
-scores. Nordham played a listless game, partly
-owing to the absence of three players who had been
-hurt in the Broadwood contest, and, although she
-twice managed to hold Yardley under her goal-posts,
-she proved an easy victim, the home team
-winning by a score of 19 to 0. Compared to Broadwood’s
-7 to 0 victory, this looked pretty good until
-one recalled that Nordham was lacking three regulars
-and was evidently still feeling the effects of
-last week’s contest. Coach Lyle worked in most of
-his second-string and third-string players in the last
-period. If he hadn’t, there might have been another
-score to Yardley’s credit. The cheering section
-kept very busy that afternoon, trying out several
-new songs and rehearsing all the old ones in
-preparation for the big game, in spite of the fact
-that a mean, dispiriting drizzle fell all during the
-last half. Clarke got a chance to show what he had
-for a few minutes in the fourth period and gave the
-impression of having very little. But as he had been
-at it less than a week it was hardly fair to judge
-him harshly.</p>
-
-<p>So, with only one minor game remaining, Yardley
-set her face hopefully toward the supreme test
-two weeks hence.</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_241"></a>[241]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX<br />
-<small>AN ENCOUNTER ON THE BEACH</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">“Doing anything this afternoon, Tucker?”</p>
-
-<p>George Tubb paused with a foot on
-the stairs to the third floor of Whitson
-and put the question with elaborate carelessness.
-Toby hesitated the fraction of a moment. He knew
-whither the inquiry led and he wanted to answer
-in the affirmative, but he really wasn’t doing anything
-special, and Arnold could never be counted on
-for Sunday afternoon entertainment, and so he said,
-after a scarcely noticeable pause: “Why, no, I
-guess not, Tubb.”</p>
-
-<p>“Wondered if you’d care to take a walk somewhere,”
-continued the other, hurriedly. “It’s a
-corking day and—and everything.”</p>
-
-<p>“All right. About three? I’ve got a letter to
-finish.”</p>
-
-<p>“Any time.” Tubb’s tone held perfect indifference.
-Toby felt as if he had made the proposal<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_242"></a>[242]</span>
-himself and as if Tubb were doing him a favor!
-For an instant he was riled and had something tart
-on the end of his tongue. But he kept it there, and
-only said: “Three then. So long!”</p>
-
-<p>Tubb’s feet pounded on up the stairs and Toby
-pushed open the door of Number 12. Inside, his
-slight frown vanished and he chuckled. “Silly
-chump!” he murmured. “Afraid I’d guess how
-much he wanted me to go with him. Gee, I wonder
-why! I’m never more than fairly decent to him.
-Must be my—my fatal beauty that attracts him!”
-And Toby’s chuckle grew into a laugh as he caught
-sight of his smiling but unclassic features in the
-mirror over Arnold’s dresser.</p>
-
-<p>The trouble with writing letters after a Sunday
-dinner is that a Sunday dinner is likely to be a
-rather hearty affair, affecting not only the body
-with torpidity but the brain as well. So it was that
-while the first three pages of Toby’s weekly epistle
-were brilliant enough the last page fell off badly
-in interest. In fact, he only reached the bottom of
-it by desperate effort and by shortening the lines.
-Then, when he had thumped a stamp on the corner
-of the envelope and found cap and sweater, he clattered
-down and dropped the letter in the mail-box
-in front of Oxford. After that he backed away to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_243"></a>[243]</span>
-the edge of the Prospect, as the grassy terrace in
-front of the buildings was called, fixed his gaze on
-the window of Number 31 and hailed.</p>
-
-<p>“O Tubb! A-ay, Tubb!”</p>
-
-<p>After several seconds had elapsed, Tubb’s face
-appeared in the open window and he looked down
-at Toby with simulated surprise. Then, as he
-looked, recollection dawned, and, “Oh! All right,
-Tucker! Be right down!” he called.</p>
-
-<p>Toby kicked at a pebble. “Serve him right if I
-beat it,” he muttered vexedly. “Cheeky beggar!
-Still, he did it pretty well.” Unwilling admiration
-softened his rancor, and, “I’ll wait,” he added to
-himself.</p>
-
-<p>Tubb clattered out of the entrance by the time
-that resolution of clemency had been reached and
-the two crossed the Prospect as if by mutual consent
-and took the graveled path that descended the
-terrace until it reached the winding road at the foot
-of the hill. Then, “Which way?” asked Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t care,” answered Tubb. “It’s warmer
-along the beach, I guess. The wind’s sort of west
-to-day.”</p>
-
-<p>“About northwest by north,” said Toby, to whom
-the direction of the wind and the look of the sky<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_244"></a>[244]</span>
-were matters of real interest. “It will be good and
-cold to-night, I guess.”</p>
-
-<p>They crossed the road and went on by the path,
-over the deep cut through which the shining rails of
-the double tracks ran. Westward, they could follow
-the straight roadway to the Wissining station
-and the drawbridge beyond, eastward the railway
-vanished presently around a curve. A rod or two
-further on the path led into the woods, dividing,
-and they followed the right-hand trail. The oaks
-and beeches still held most of their leaves, but the
-other trees had stripped their branches for the winter,
-and underfoot the colorful litter rustled pleasantly.
-A moment later the Sound showed through
-the trees, softly blue in the afternoon sunlight.
-There wasn’t much talk until the two boys had
-reached the beach and turned eastward along the
-firm, hard sand. The tide was well out, and just
-above the little ripples of waves gleaming expanses
-of wet sand caught the sun blindingly. They by no
-means had the beach to themselves, for the mild
-afternoon had brought out many of the villagers
-and not a few of the school fellows, and, looking
-ahead down the gently-curving strand, they could
-see many darker specks against its golden surface.
-Out on the water a few pleasure craft were flitting<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_245"></a>[245]</span>
-under a light but steady breeze and Plum Island
-looked startlingly near.</p>
-
-<p>“A peach of a day,” said Toby, breathing in the
-familiar scent of sea and shore, and experiencing a
-tiny qualm of homesickness. Tubb assented. He
-was looking fixedly at two boys who were approaching
-them along the beach. A moment later he
-grunted.</p>
-
-<p>“There comes Frick,” he said. “Guess I’ll ask
-him something.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, you won’t,” said Toby decisively. “You
-promised to behave yourself.”</p>
-
-<p>“I didn’t promise,” denied Tubb. “I said maybe
-I’d—Anyhow, I’m not going to <em>do</em> anything; I just
-want to let him understand——”</p>
-
-<p>“You keep your mouth closed, Tubb.” Toby
-took his arm tightly. “No nonsense now!”</p>
-
-<p>“We-ell——” Tubb eyed the approaching couple
-irresolutely. Frick’s companion was a stranger to
-both, a chap whose name Toby believed to be Cotting,
-a tall, lanky youth with a wide mouth and
-outstanding ears. Just now he appeared to be intensely
-amused at something Frick was saying, and
-his high-pitched laughter, accompanied by surreptitious
-glances at Toby and George, was too much
-for the latter. Wresting his arm from Toby’s restraining<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_246"></a>[246]</span>
-clutch, Tubb swung off to meet the others,
-who were passing a dozen yards up the beach. Toby
-followed more slowly, thinking unflattering things
-of Tubb.</p>
-
-<p>“Talking about me, were you?” challenged Tubb
-from a few paces away. Cotting shot a startled and
-questioning glance at Frick. Evidently Cotting had
-no desire for trouble. Frick, however, pushed forward
-swaggeringly.</p>
-
-<p>“What if I was?” he demanded, scowling.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t do it!” Tubb’s voice had an unsuspected
-edge, and Frick stared an instant in surprise.</p>
-
-<p>“Calm yourself, kid, calm yourself,” he laughed
-finally. “I talk about any one I like to. Then
-what?”</p>
-
-<p>Toby “butted in” at that moment, nodding coldly
-to Frick and joining arms with Tubb again. “Come
-on, Tubb, let’s hurry,” he urged.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s right, Tucker,” said Frick approvingly.
-“He might get hurt if he stays around here.”</p>
-
-<p>Cotting had stopped a pace or two away and was
-digging a hole in the sand with the toe of one shoe
-in a very absorbed way. Toby found time to be
-amused at his tactful withdrawal.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m not going to get hurt,” responded Tubb.
-“Don’t worry about me, Frick. And I’m not going<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_247"></a>[247]</span>
-to hurt you—to-day. I just stopped to tell you
-that I’m keeping my affair till later on. Didn’t
-want you to think you were getting away with what
-you did last week, because you’re not. It’s chalked
-up against you and you’ll get what’s coming to you
-when it’s time. There’s no hurry——”</p>
-
-<p>“Shut up, Tubb,” begged Toby. “Come on!”</p>
-
-<p>“Mind your own business, Tucker!” snarled
-Frick. “You’re a nice one to talk that stuff! I’ve
-got something for you, too, you swell-headed little
-carrot! As for you, Tubb, or whatever your silly
-name is, I’m ready whenever you are! Right now
-if you like! I’ll take on the two of you! Come on!
-What do you say?”</p>
-
-<p>“There’s going to be no scrapping here,” said
-Toby resolutely. “There’s going to be none anywhere
-for awhile. You keep what you’ve got for
-me, Frick. I’ll ask for it when I’m ready. Tubb,
-you——”</p>
-
-<p>“You’ll get it when <em>I’m</em>, ready!” growled Frick.
-“I’d give it to you now if——” He glanced over
-the beach and, furtively, toward the school, whose
-upper windows were visible above the stretch of
-woods.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, and get thrown out of school,” assented<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_248"></a>[248]</span>
-Toby grimly. “Not for me, thanks! There’s time
-enough. Come on, Tubb.”</p>
-
-<p>“All right,” Tubb smiled cheerfully. “No use
-getting in trouble about this guy. See you again,
-Frick. Be good to yourself!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, run along, little boys,” answered Frick,
-laughing angrily. “For a plugged nickel I’d bang
-your fool heads together!”</p>
-
-<p>Toby tightened his hold on Tubb’s arm, but Tubb
-only laughed and went on. “Gee, that did me a
-lot of good,” he said contentedly. “He’s a big
-bluff, I guess, Tucker.”</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe. Still, they say he’s pretty handy with
-his fists. Anyhow, I’m glad you’re out of that,
-Tubb. We’d all been finished for fair if you two
-had scrapped here on Sunday afternoon!”</p>
-
-<p>“I forgot about its being Sunday,” said Tubb.
-“I suppose that would have made it worse. Say,
-he’s got it in for you, too, hasn’t he?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, I guess so,” answered Toby tranquilly.
-“But I should feel faint! Anyhow, he will have
-to keep the peace until football’s over. I don’t intend
-to lose my place on the Second for the likes
-of him!”</p>
-
-<p>“Say, why doesn’t that ninny take you over to
-the First?” asked Tubb.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_249"></a>[249]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Meaning Mr. Lyle? You have pretty names for
-your Big Boss! Well, I’ve been thinking about
-that, Tubb, and I’ve just about concluded that it’s
-because he doesn’t want me!”</p>
-
-<p>“But, joking aside,” protested the other earnestly,
-“you play a better game than that guy Clarke,
-and I’ll bet you could beat Noyes, too, if you had
-a chance. Noyes is scared all the time. He gets his
-signals all balled up. No one feels any—whatyoucallit—any—any——”</p>
-
-<p>“You mean that he doesn’t inspire his team with
-confidence in his ability to—er—meet successfully
-the——”</p>
-
-<p>“Say, what’s wrong with you?” demanded Tubb
-anxiously.</p>
-
-<p>Toby chuckled. “That’s what comes of trying to
-make practical application of what I’ve learned in
-my English course. Just as soon as I try to speak
-the language correctly some one jumps on me! It’s
-no use!”</p>
-
-<p>“I should say not!” agreed Tubb, relievedly.
-“You talk like an examination paper!”</p>
-
-<p>“Then I’ll stop. Those are things I don’t want
-to think of. By the way, how are you getting along
-in your classes, Tubb?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_250"></a>[250]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Fine. I never had much trouble with studies.
-Guess I learn easily.”</p>
-
-<p>“I think you must,” responded Toby thoughtfully.
-“Wish I did. Shall we turn back?”</p>
-
-<p>“Do you mean that you have trouble with your
-studies, Tucker?” asked Tubb when they were retracing
-their steps. “I thought you were a regular
-shark for work.”</p>
-
-<p>“A shark,” answered Toby, “is a much misunderstood
-fish. Most folks think that a shark swallows
-things whole, but he doesn’t. He has to bite
-off a chunk at a time, just as I do. Where we differ,
-Mister Shark and I, is on chewing. He doesn’t
-have to chew what he bites off, and I do. I have to
-chew it a long while. And even then it isn’t always
-digested. I guess, Tubb, the truth of the matter
-is that I can learn easily enough if I set out to do
-it, but I have a rotten fashion of trying to do two
-hours’ study in one!”</p>
-
-<p>Tubb laughed. “I know. If the instructor’s easy
-you can get by that way sometimes, but here at
-Yardley you can’t. I found that out the first week.
-Well, I suppose we’ve got to learn the dreary stuff,
-eh? What’s the good of it, though? A lot of it,
-I mean?”</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t know, Tubb. I’ve wondered. Seems to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_251"></a>[251]</span>
-me sometimes that if they’d teach us less Greek and
-Latin and higher mathematics and more things like
-horseshoeing and plumbing and—and ditch-digging
-we’d have a better chance when we got through. A
-lot of us will never get to college. I hope to, but I
-don’t know. If I don’t, what use to me is Latin and
-trigonometry and Greek? I suppose I’ll build boats
-most of my life—maybe. Being able to read the
-Odyssey in the original odiousness isn’t going to
-help me a whole lot!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, there are schools where a fellow can go
-and learn those things,” said Tubb. “Blacksmithing
-and electricity and—and practical things, you
-know.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, but why not teach a little of them at every
-school? Seems to me a lot of us would be a sight
-better off if we knew something about a practical
-trade when we got out of prep school. Of course,
-we couldn’t learn much, but we might have a start.
-I guess it’ll come to that some day, Tubb.”</p>
-
-<p>“Really? Well, I wouldn’t mind. I don’t know
-what I’m going to do when I get through here. Go
-home and tend store, I guess.”</p>
-
-<p>“Store? What kind of a store is it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, just a regular general store like you find
-in small towns. Dad sells everything from sugar<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_252"></a>[252]</span>
-to plows. And he makes just enough to live on,
-I guess. He used to be in the lumber business, and
-he did pretty well for awhile. Then—something
-happened and it went bust. No, by jiminy, I won’t
-do it, Tucker! Running a country store isn’t good
-enough! I’ll be a—a lawyer or something first!”</p>
-
-<p>“Sounds desperate the way you say it,” laughed
-Toby. “I’d sort of like to be a doctor myself, only
-you can’t be President if you’re a doctor, and of
-course I’d rather be President.”</p>
-
-<p>“Can’t you?” asked Tubb innocently. “Why
-not?”</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t know.” Toby shook his head. “You
-never heard of a President who’d been a doctor
-first, did you? Maybe there’s something in the Constitution
-prohibiting it.”</p>
-
-<p>“You say the craziest things!” laughed Tubb.
-Then, soberly: “Do you mean that you really
-think about things like that, Tucker?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Things like what? Being a doctor?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, being President. I never do.”</p>
-
-<p>“Sure, why not? Some one’s got to be President,
-Tubb. Might as well be me if I’m fitted for
-it. Or you, if you are! Every President was a kid
-once, you know. I wonder if they ever thought
-about it when they were kids. Maybe you’re not<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_253"></a>[253]</span>
-supposed to. Anyway, if you’re a lawyer and I’m
-a doctor, you’ll get the presidency, because lawyers
-seem to have it all over every other profession when
-it comes to copping that job!”</p>
-
-<p>Later, climbing the hill again, Toby asked:
-“Changed your mind any about this place, Tubb?”</p>
-
-<p>“How do you mean?” But, in spite of assumed
-ignorance, he understood, and in the next breath he
-went on. “Yes, I have, Tucker,” he said frankly.
-“I said a lot of things I didn’t believe, anyhow. I
-had an awful grouch at first. Guess you—guess
-you must have thought I was a perfect blamed
-nuisance!”</p>
-
-<p>“N-no, not exactly. You got me riled pretty
-often, though.”</p>
-
-<p>“Did I? I suppose I must have. Well——”
-Tubb hesitated. “Say, I want you to know that I
-appreciate everything, Tucker; everything you did
-to make me—make me get onto myself. Of course
-I know that I’m not the sort of fellow that other
-fellows take to, but—but I’ve been—sort of—getting
-along lately. Football’s done it, I guess, and
-you started me on that. That’s why I say that I’d
-like you to know——”</p>
-
-<p>“All right.” Toby chuckled. “Tubb, I decided
-a long while ago that when you got straightened<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_254"></a>[254]</span>
-out here I was going to do something to prove to my
-own satisfaction that—well, that you were a regular
-fellow.”</p>
-
-<p>“What was it?” asked the other, puzzled.</p>
-
-<p>“I was going to call you something,” answered
-Toby gravely. “I guess you have got straightened
-out pretty well and so I guess I’ll do it right now.”
-They had reached the second floor of Whitson and
-Toby had started toward Number 12. “See you
-later, Wash-Tub!”</p>
-
-<p>Then his door closed behind him hurriedly. But
-George Tubb, continuing his way upstairs after a
-moment, looked anything but vengeful!</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_255"></a>[255]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI<br />
-<small>TUBB BARKS A KNUCKLE</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">Yardley entered the final stage of football
-that week with its customary enthusiasm
-and single-mindedness. There had
-been already two or three meetings in Assembly
-Hall, on the third floor of Oxford, for the purpose
-of practicing cheers and songs, but those gatherings
-paled into insignificance with Monday night’s affair
-and kept on paling as the last fortnight before
-the Broadwood game grew toward its end. There
-were mass meetings on Monday, Wednesday and
-Friday of that next to the last week, and at each
-successive meeting the cheering was heartier, the
-singing louder and the enthusiasm more intense.
-Every one who had anything to say—and some who
-hadn’t—addressed the students, the Musical Clubs
-played their best and if fervor counted in the final
-score, Broadwood, to quote Sid Creel, was “a gone
-coon!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_256"></a>[256]</span></p>
-
-<p>And on the two gridirons life was very strenuous
-indeed those six days. The First was looking
-toward the big game and nothing else, and the game
-with St. John’s Academy, which, contrary to custom,
-was to be played away from home, was viewed
-merely as an incident. New plays, not many in
-number but exacting of execution, which had purposely
-been held back until now, were being learned
-and the final touches were being laid on. Coach
-Lyle had two graduates to aid him during the last
-fortnight, and he needed them, for there were still
-weak spots in the Blue’s line-up.</p>
-
-<p>The Second Team, too, went through a week of
-intensive work, both with a view to giving the First
-some good hard tussles and with her own second
-and last game in sight. She was to play Latimer
-High School on the First Team gridiron on Saturday,
-and, with the big team away, the contest was
-sure to draw a crowd and attain a semblance of importance,
-and the Second, not at all loath to enjoy
-the limelight for once, was resolved to make a good
-showing. Toby discovered suddenly on Tuesday
-that his triumph over Roy Frick had apparently
-been gained, for during three desperate and hard-fought
-periods against the First he remained at
-quarter while his rival graced the bench. And Toby<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_257"></a>[257]</span>
-did himself justice that afternoon if ever he had.
-To be sure the First Team smashed out a score in
-each period, but she had to work for each, and in
-the third twelve minutes the Second made a forty-six-yard
-advance from mid-field to the First’s five-yard
-line, where, foiled thrice in attempts at rushing,
-Toby tossed a short forward to Mawson, who
-fell across the goal-line for a glorious six points.
-Listening to the storm of reproach and accusation
-hurled at the First by their coaches, Toby almost
-regretted the triumph!</p>
-
-<p>Toby was used hard in that game. It seemed that
-nothing could stop the opposing ends from getting
-down under punts, while anything in the shape of
-protection for the catcher was invariably lacking.
-That wild Tubb was the worst offender from Toby’s
-point of view. Tubb was forever rushing on him
-the instant the ball settled into his arms, and Tubb
-had learned to tackle now. Some of the hardest
-thumps Toby got that afternoon were due to Tubb.
-Then toward the last of the play, Toby got into a
-side-line mix-up and Jim Rose, who weighed close
-to two hundred, sat on his neck in a way that spelled
-discomfort then and afterwards. On the whole,
-although he had had a corking good time and was
-conscious of having deported himself rather well,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_258"></a>[258]</span>
-Toby reached the gymnasium in a somewhat weak
-and battered condition and made no objection when
-Gyp removed him to the rubbing room and made
-him swallow something that tasted like ammonia
-and then did excruciating things to his neck for a
-good ten minutes. Even after that he didn’t feel
-awfully bright and chipper, and that night he fell
-asleep with his head pillowed on his French dictionary
-and slept beautifully until Arnold rudely awakened
-him and sternly sentenced him to bed.</p>
-
-<p>The next afternoon, although he really felt as
-fit as ever, the assistant trainer cast one stern and
-penetrating look at him and ordered him off the
-field. “No work for you to-day, Tucker,” said Gyp.
-“And don’t stick around here, either. Go and play
-tennis or something easy. (Gyp was known to hold
-a supreme contempt for tennis!) Anyway, stay
-outdoors.”</p>
-
-<p>“Can’t I watch practice?” asked Toby ingratiatingly.</p>
-
-<p>“You cannot! Beat it now, like I tell you!”</p>
-
-<p>So Toby “beat it” and went back to the gymnasium
-and donned “cits” and wandered down to
-the tennis courts and saw Horace Ramsey run away
-with a set from the formidable Colcord, one of the
-mainstays of the Tennis Team. Ramsey’s playing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_259"></a>[259]</span>
-astonished Toby, and he said as much to that youth
-when, later, they walked back up the slope together.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ve improved my playing a lot the last two
-weeks,” said Ramsey. “Some fellows don’t like
-cool weather for tennis, but I do. Maybe it’s because
-I’m heavier and hot weather gets me. I think
-I’ve got the knack of the back-hand stroke now. It
-worried me a lot at first. That’s the first time I
-ever got Colcord six-three, though. He wasn’t at
-his best to-day, I guess.”</p>
-
-<p>“Heart troubling you much nowadays?” asked
-Toby slyly.</p>
-
-<p>“Not a bit,” answered the other unsuspiciously.
-“I guess Mr. Bendix was right about it. He said,
-you know, that he couldn’t find anything wrong
-with it. Sometimes I think mother was too—too
-anxious and imagined a lot. You know how mothers
-are, Tucker.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes.” Toby nodded. “My mother used to be
-that way, too. She used to tell my father that I
-wasn’t strong enough to split wood, but dad never
-believed her. And somehow I split it and lived to
-tell the tale! How are you and Tubb getting along,
-Ramsey?”</p>
-
-<p>“Getting along? Oh, fine. Why?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_260"></a>[260]</span></p>
-
-<p>“We-ell, just at first I thought I noticed a certain—er—coolness
-between you.”</p>
-
-<p>“Really?” Ramsey looked mildly surprised. “I
-don’t remember that. I like George first rate. He
-used to be sort of touchy and—and gloomy, but he
-isn’t now. Maybe he was homesick. He’s doing
-great things on the football team, I hear.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes.” Toby unconsciously felt of a lame hip.
-“Yes, he certainly is!”</p>
-
-<p>When Arnold came dragging himself in just before
-five he found his roommate putting in some
-much-needed licks on his Latin. “Your friend
-Tubbs——” began Arnold presently.</p>
-
-<p>“Tubb, Arn, still Tubb,” corrected Toby patiently.
-“Minus the sibilant consonant.”</p>
-
-<p>“Tubb, then. It’s a crazy name, anyway. What
-I was going to say was that your friend Tubb
-played a very nice game of football this afternoon.”</p>
-
-<p>“So glad to hear it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes.” Arnold chuckled. “And some one almost
-spoiled his fatal beauty. They say it was Roy
-Frick.”</p>
-
-<p>“How? What did he do to him?” asked Toby
-anxiously.</p>
-
-<p>“How I don’t know. I didn’t observe it. What
-was done was enough, though. Friend Tubb’s nose<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_261"></a>[261]</span>
-is all over his face. I suppose that in time, after
-Andy has worked it back into shape and hitched it
-there with plenty of plaster, it will resume its normal
-appearance, but at the present writing it’s—well,
-it’s a sight and a strong argument against the
-brutality of football!”</p>
-
-<p>“Do you mean that Frick got him during play?”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, it doesn’t look like play, but maybe it
-was!”</p>
-
-<p>“You know what I mean, you seven-ply idiot!
-Did they have a scrap, or what?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, it was during the course of the gentlemanly
-encounter between friends that we staged down
-there this afternoon. Honest, Toby, it’s a wonder
-any one escaped without losing an ear or a jawbone
-or something, the way those coaches drove us
-to-day! They were positively blood-thirsty! That
-long-legged guy who’s coaching the guards and
-tackles——”</p>
-
-<p>“Did Tubb try to get back at him?”</p>
-
-<p>“At Frick? No, not that I know of. Maybe
-he has by now. Maybe, though, it wasn’t Frick
-who plugged him. I only heard some one say so
-afterwards; Casement I think.”</p>
-
-<p>“It was Frick, I’ll wager,” said Toby. “Hang
-him, I wish he’d behave himself until the season’s<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_262"></a>[262]</span>
-over. Tubb’s crazy to fight him, and I’m afraid he
-will, and if he does some one will get on to it and
-he will get the dickens.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s no joke,” agreed Arnold. “You’d better
-give him a tip to keep quiet until after we’ve licked
-Broadwood. It wouldn’t do to lose as good a chap
-as Tubb. I heard, by the way, that Frick and a
-couple of other fellows had a mix-up with some of
-the mill toughs the other night; Saturday I think it
-was; and that Frick, for once, got the short end of
-it. Too bad they didn’t cure him!”</p>
-
-<p>“Guess I’ll run up and see him after supper,”
-said Toby thoughtfully.</p>
-
-<p>“Frick?” asked Arnold innocently.</p>
-
-<p>“If I did I’d give him a good lesson,” answered
-Toby grimly. “No, Tubb. I made him sort of
-promise to be good, but if Frick’s gone and pasted
-him again——” Toby shook his head lugubriously.</p>
-
-<p>Arnold laughed. “Think his patience may wear
-thin after awhile, eh? Well, I can’t say I’d blame
-him if it did. Still, he mustn’t be allowed to get
-in wrong with faculty just yet. Go on up and read
-the riot-act to him, old thing. By the bye, what
-happened to you this afternoon? What kep ye?”</p>
-
-<p>“Gyp,” said Toby. “He wouldn’t let me on. Said
-I was to play tennis instead!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_263"></a>[263]</span></p>
-
-<p>“I thought that might be it. Well, I missed your
-smiling countenance and cheerful voice. So did
-your team, I guess. They didn’t begin to play the
-way they did yesterday. Did you play tennis?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not likely! To tell the gospel truth, Arn, I
-guess I wouldn’t have been much good to-day. I
-felt all right until Gyp told me I didn’t, though.
-That’s funny, isn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not at all, not at all. Power of suggestion, T.
-Tucker. Recognized psychological phenomenon.
-When do we eat?”</p>
-
-<p>Toby was surprised as well as embarrassed on
-reaching training table that evening by the interest
-displayed in his welfare by his teammates. It
-seemed that every one, with the possible exception
-of Roy Frick, was eager and anxious to have his
-absence from practice satisfactorily explained. Toby
-was somehow glad that Coach Burtis had not yet
-reached the table, for the coach had a kindly but
-amused smile that made Toby feel silly, and Toby
-was feeling silly enough as it was. Just at first he
-thought the fellows were having fun with him, but
-their relief at discovering that it was merely a lay-off
-that had kept him away was too genuine to be
-mistaken.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, Gyp has good sense,” commented Farquhar<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_264"></a>[264]</span>
-approvingly. “The First certainly laid for
-you yesterday, Tucker, and I could see that you
-were pretty well flattened out afterwards. Feeling
-all right now?”</p>
-
-<p>“Fine, thanks. Somebody pass the milk, please.”</p>
-
-<p>“Atta boy, Tucker!” said Nelson from across the
-board. “Don’t forget Saturday. We’re going to
-need you, son!”</p>
-
-<p>Toby saw Lovett glance toward Frick and exchange
-an amused glance with Grover Beech, and
-wished Nelson had more tact, and nearly choked
-drinking the milk with which Mawson had filled
-his glass. Then Mr. Burtis came and asked Toby
-if his lay-off had straightened him out, and again
-he said he was feeling fine, thanks, and after that
-some one mercifully turned the conversation.</p>
-
-<p>When supper was over he went in search of
-George Tubb. He had seen Tubb leave the First
-Team table and took it for granted that he had
-gone up to his room. But a knock on the portal of
-Number 31 elicited no response and, on pushing the
-door open, the room proved to be dark and empty.
-So he went down to Number 12, lighted up, got
-his books together and started on some geometry
-problems that promised to give him trouble. But
-the first one proved less awful than he anticipated<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_265"></a>[265]</span>
-and so he went on to the second, and when he remembered
-George Tubb again it was nearly nine.
-Arnold had not yet returned from a conference at
-the gymnasium. Toby pushed his papers away,
-viewing the result of his labors approvingly, and
-went back to the third floor. This time a light
-showed from Number 31 and he found the room
-tenanted, but only by Horace Ramsey.</p>
-
-<p>“Where’s Tubb?” asked Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“Haven’t seen him since before supper,” replied
-Horace, with a sigh as he leaned back from his
-studying and stretched his arms overhead. “I don’t
-think he’s been back here since he went down. I
-only came in about half an hour ago, though. Want
-to see him? He may be over in Dudley. He and a
-fellow named Dunphy are sort of thick. I don’t
-know the number.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll wait a few minutes if I’m not keeping you
-from studying. Maybe he will be in.”</p>
-
-<p>“Glad to have you,” replied Horace eagerly. “Try
-the big chair. It’s all right if you don’t lean back
-too hard. Did you hear about the wallop Tubb
-got this afternoon?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, Deering told me about it. Does he think
-Frick did it?”</p>
-
-<p>“He says he knows he did! You ought to have<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_266"></a>[266]</span>
-heard him go on about it!” Horace chuckled. “Gee,
-he was mad!”</p>
-
-<p>“You don’t suppose he’s—he’s looking for Frick
-now, do you?”</p>
-
-<p>“By Jove! I wonder if he is! No, I don’t think
-so, though. He had sort of cooled down by supper
-time. He looked like a South Sea pirate, Tucker.
-They plastered his face all over and it hurt him
-to talk, I guess. Not that that kept him quiet,
-though!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I wish I knew for sure——” muttered
-Toby. “If he gets to scrapping with Frick and
-faculty learns of it——”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t believe he will, honest. He said something
-about that, something about wishing football
-was over so he could show Frick a good time.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby remained a half-hour longer, during which
-conversation touched on many subjects, and then,
-as he was leaving, Tubb appeared. He seemed in
-unusually good spirits and greeted the visitor almost
-boisterously, and wouldn’t hear of Toby’s departing
-yet. “I’ve been over to Dudley seeing a
-fellow named Dunphy,” he explained. “Know
-him?”</p>
-
-<p>“A little,” said Toby. “What happened to your
-hand?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_267"></a>[267]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Oh, that?” Tubb held up his left hand and
-looked at a bleeding knuckle. “Why, I barked it
-against the corner of Dudley. It was sort of dark
-and I tried to turn too soon. Struck it against the
-stone, I guess. It’s just a scratch.”</p>
-
-<p>“You keep on,” observed Ramsey dryly, “and
-your folks won’t know you! Isn’t he a picture,
-Tucker?”</p>
-
-<p>Toby assented unsmilingly. Tubb did look fairly
-disreputable, for white surgeon’s tape crossed and
-recrossed his nose over a pad of gauze and gave
-him a peculiarly villainous appearance.</p>
-
-<p>“Suppose you heard about this?” asked Tubb
-significantly, touching the wounded member gingerly.
-Toby nodded. “That’s our friend Frick again.
-It’s all right, though. Just one more little favor to
-return.”</p>
-
-<p>“Seen him since?” asked Toby carelessly.</p>
-
-<p>“Only at a respectable and safe distance,” replied
-Tubb, smiling. He looked and sounded truthful,
-but Toby gave another look at the bleeding knuckle
-and doubted.</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” he said after a moment, “I hope you’ll
-keep away from him, Tubb. You know we sort
-of decided you would.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, I know. That’s all right. Friend Frick<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_268"></a>[268]</span>
-can wait. I’m in no hurry. I was afraid that I
-might forget about him by the time there was any
-comeback, but now, after this little memento, there’s
-no danger of it!”</p>
-
-<p>Presently Toby left, wondering whether Tubb
-was telling the truth or was ashamed to confess
-that he had taken revenge on his enemy. Certainly,
-it was quite possible to skin one’s knuckle by hitting
-it against the rough stone trimming of one of the
-buildings, but somehow Toby didn’t quite believe
-that Tubb had acquired his injury that way!</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_269"></a>[269]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII<br />
-<small>A VISIT TO THE OFFICE</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">Toby’s suspicions were confirmed the next
-morning. On the way back from chapel
-he fell in with Sid Creel. Sid’s eyes were
-twinkling merrily as he joined arms with Toby and
-fell into step. “Did you hear about Roy Frick?”
-he demanded in a hushed but joyous voice.</p>
-
-<p>Toby shook his head. He thought he knew what
-was coming, however.</p>
-
-<p>“Some one beat him up,” said Sid, “beat him up
-beautifully! I haven’t seen him, but that’s what
-Orlie Simpson says. He’s in his room and won’t
-come out, and Orlie says he’s a sight!”</p>
-
-<p>“When?”</p>
-
-<p>“Last night. That’s all I know. Maybe it’s unkind
-to chortle, Tucker, but he <em>did</em> need it, didn’t
-he?”</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe he did,” answered Toby gloomily.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, what’s your trouble?” Sid observed him<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_270"></a>[270]</span>
-in surprise. “You sound as if you were sorry for
-him!”</p>
-
-<p>“Frick? No, I was only thinking that if there
-was any trouble about it—whoever did it——”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, he’s not likely to tell, I guess,” Sid chuckled.
-“Probably he will say he fell downstairs or something!
-Well, see you later. Thought you’d be
-interested in hearing the sad news. So long!”</p>
-
-<p>After a two o’clock recitation Toby returned to
-Number 12 to leave his books before going to the
-field and found a gray card awaiting him. Toby
-had seen gray cards before and knew what they
-meant, but this time his conscience was fairly untroubled
-and he wondered a good deal as he read
-the printed form:</p>
-
-<p>“The Principal desires to see Tobias Tucker in
-the School Office before 6 p.m.”</p>
-
-<p>Even the clearest conscience will experience
-qualms on receipt of such a document, and Toby
-sat down, card in hand, and asked himself what it
-portended. It might be that bothersome Latin, although
-just of late it hadn’t been going half badly
-and his instructor had even given him an approving
-word but a day or two since. Of course it was
-conceivable that a student might be summoned to
-the Office on some matter not concerned with misdemeanors<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_271"></a>[271]</span>
-or derelictions. For instance, Toby told
-himself, Doctor Collins might want to ask his advice
-regarding the administration of Yardley Hall
-School!</p>
-
-<p>Well, anyhow, he reflected presently, he had until
-six to keep the appointment, and meanwhile it was
-getting close to practice time, and whatever the
-matter might be it could wait. So he kicked off
-his shoes in favor of a pair of rubber-soled “sneakers”
-and donned his oldest jacket and set forth.</p>
-
-<p>If troubles never come singly, as they say, the
-same may be said of surprises. Toby’s second surprise
-that day came when the whistle had put an
-end to a hard-fought battle with First Team in
-which he had again kept the quarter-back position
-throughout. Possibly the fact that Frick was not
-on hand may have had something to do with that,
-for Rawson and Stair had been left well behind in
-the race for supremacy. In any case, Toby put in
-forty minutes of actual playing and ran his team
-well, although no score came to the Second to-day.
-Walking back to the bench for his sweater, he heard
-his name called. Coaches Lyle and Burtis were
-standing together nearby and it was Mr. Burtis who
-had spoken. Toby joined them.</p>
-
-<p>“You know Mr. Lyle, Tucker?” asked the Second<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_272"></a>[272]</span>
-Team coach. Wonderingly Toby shook hands.
-“Mr. Lyle thinks he needs you on the First,” continued
-Mr. Burtis. “Sorry to lose you, Tucker, but
-we’re almost through, and I guess you may be able
-to help out over there.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby looked bewildered. “You mean you want
-me—that I’m to go to the First Team, sir?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, Tucker, that’s the idea,” answered the
-First Team coach. “As you know, we’ve lost Curran
-for the season. We still have a couple of good
-quarters in Noyes and Winfield, but I’ll feel safer
-with another to fall back on. I can’t promise you
-much glory, Tucker, for you may not be needed this
-season. Perhaps all you’ll get is a lot of hard
-work, my boy, but you’ll have the satisfaction of
-knowing that you’re doing your bit for the School.
-Anyhow, there’s next year to look forward to. And
-I dare say that, if you take hold the way I expect
-you to, you’ll get your letter in the Broadwood
-game. Well, you report to me to-morrow, will
-you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, thanks!”</p>
-
-<p>“Good!” Mr. Lyle shook hands again as though
-to seal the bargain, and then Mr. Burtis shook hands
-in a way that conveyed the idea that he was very
-pleased for Toby’s sake, and Toby escaped. Most<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_273"></a>[273]</span>
-of the First and Second Team fellows had gone on
-ahead and he had the path pretty much to himself
-on the way to the gymnasium. And he was glad,
-because he wanted to think. He was a First Team
-man! That was wonderful, but it was also disquieting.
-Suppose that by some strange and unforeseen
-combination of events he was called on
-to play against St. John’s, or even Broadwood!
-Gee, that would be pretty fierce! He guessed he
-just couldn’t do it! No, sir, he’d be ill or something.
-Playing on the Second was one thing and
-running up against a big team like St. John’s was
-quite another. He would make a horrible mess
-of things, probably, and die of disgrace! Then the
-comforting thought came to him that there wasn’t
-the least chance of his getting into action in either
-of the remaining contests, that all he would be required
-to do would be to substitute now and then in
-practice. It would be pretty hard work, of course,
-but it would be worth while. Even to be numbered
-among the First Team was a proud privilege and
-cheap at any cost of labor. And there was also the
-alluring possibility that he would get in for a minute
-or two at the last of the big game, long enough
-to win the right to wear the big blue Y!</p>
-
-<p>He remembered Frick then and wondered if he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_274"></a>[274]</span>
-would have been chosen had Frick been out to-day.
-His modesty didn’t prevent his suspecting that his
-work had pleased the coach better than Frick’s during
-the last week or so, and he hoped that Frick’s
-absence from practice to-day was not the reason for
-the choice falling where it had. But he couldn’t be
-certain as to that, and in consequence he found no
-temptation to be “swell-headed.”</p>
-
-<p>It wasn’t until he had dressed and was leaving
-the gymnasium with Sid Creel and Frank Lamson
-and one or two more that he remembered that summons
-to the Office. Remembering, his heart sank.
-Suppose something—he couldn’t think what it
-might be—but suppose something had gone wrong
-and he was to learn that this new and wonderful
-good fortune was to be denied him! Of course,
-that was perfect rot, for he hadn’t done anything!
-Just the same he’d feel better when that conference
-with the Principal was over.</p>
-
-<p>The School Secretary waved him silently toward
-the inner office a few minutes later and Toby confronted
-Doctor Collins. There was nothing formidable
-about the Principal, but to-day Toby’s spine
-experienced the sensation of becoming suddenly
-liquefied, for Doctor Collins fixed a kind but stern
-look on him as he swung about in his chair.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_275"></a>[275]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Ah, Tucker! Be seated, please.” The Doctor
-removed his glasses, held them between him and the
-light from the broad windows, seemed satisfied with
-their clarity and replaced them astride his nose.
-“One of our fellows was set on last night by two
-other boys, Tucker, and badly hurt. Perhaps you
-know him?”</p>
-
-<p>“Roy Frick, sir? I know him a little. We’re—we
-were on the Second Team together.”</p>
-
-<p>“And you had heard of his—ah—injuries?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, Sid Creel told me this morning.”</p>
-
-<p>“I see. Well, I’ve sent for you, Tucker, because
-Frick tells a strange story of the event. At least,
-I find it strange. Perhaps you can throw some light
-on it. According to Frick, he was returning from
-the village last evening at about nine o’clock, perhaps
-a little after nine, and just inside the main gate
-at the foot of the Prospect two boys jumped out
-from the trees and seized him. That is to say, one
-boy seized him and the other—ah—administered
-punishment. It appears to have been rather a brutal
-affair, brutal and cowardly. You agree with me?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir,” answered Toby troubledly. He had
-made up his mind by now that no matter what happened
-he would not tell on Tubb.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes. Now here is the strange—ah—feature of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_276"></a>[276]</span>
-the story. Frick tells us that the boy who punched
-and otherwise maltreated him was you, Tucker.”</p>
-
-<p>There was a moment of silence. Then: “<em>Me?</em>”
-gasped Toby.</p>
-
-<p>The Principal nodded. “Yes, he says so. He declares
-that he saw you well enough to recognize you,
-although the spot is a fairly dark one. However,
-there is the possibility that he was mistaken. Doubtless
-you can account for your time at that hour,
-Tucker.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, yes, sir! Of course I can! I wasn’t anywhere
-near the gate! I wasn’t even outside Whitson!
-Besides, I’d have no reason to do it, Doctor!”</p>
-
-<p>“No? I gathered from Frick that there was a
-sort of feud existing between you. However, that
-isn’t of consequence now. I’m very glad indeed
-that you are in a position to disprove his accusation.
-Where were you at that time, Tucker, and
-with whom?”</p>
-
-<p>“Between nine and——”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, between nine and half-past, let us say.
-Frick thinks the time was perhaps nine-ten or nine-fifteen.”</p>
-
-<p>“I was in my room in Whitson, sir. I was doing
-some geometry.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well occupied,” answered the Principal with a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_277"></a>[277]</span>
-smile. “And your roommate was with you, I presume?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, no, sir, he wasn’t,” stammered Toby.
-“Arnold was at a football conference.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh!” Doctor Collins sounded disappointed.
-“Then between nine and, say, a quarter-past nine
-you were quite alone? Did any one come into your
-room about that time?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir.” Toby’s heart sank. “I think it was
-a little after eight when I came down from the third
-floor, and I studied until—I’m not just certain, but I
-think it was about a quarter-past, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Where were you on the third floor?”</p>
-
-<p>“I went up to see George Tubb. He rooms in
-31.”</p>
-
-<p>“But that was, you say, shortly after eight. At
-what time did your roommate return?”</p>
-
-<p>Toby hesitated. Arnold had been in the room
-when he got back from that second visit to Number
-31, but how long he had been there Toby hadn’t
-asked. Finally: “He was there a little before ten,
-sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, between the time you finished studying
-and his return where were you, Tucker?”</p>
-
-<p>Toby was prepared for that question. If he
-owned to having gone back to Tubb’s room the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_278"></a>[278]</span>
-Principal would probably suggest that Tubb be
-called on to verify the statement, in which case it
-was more than likely that Tubb’s absence from his
-room at the time when Frick was set upon would
-become known. Perhaps, since Tubb was evidently
-not thought of in connection with the affair, that
-was not dangerous, but to Toby it seemed to offer
-a clew that any one would seize on. Toby’s reply
-came without hesitation.</p>
-
-<p>“I never left Whitson all the evening, sir, not for
-a moment,” he said earnestly. “I was in the building
-from the time I came back from practice until
-I went to chapel this morning.”</p>
-
-<p>“I see. Well, I wish you had some one who could
-vouch for that, Tucker. I think you are truthful,
-my boy, and that Frick made a mistake, but I have
-no right to accept your word above his. We’ll let
-the matter rest overnight. Perhaps you will think
-of some one who can testify as to your whereabouts
-between nine and nine-thirty. Can you come to me
-again at——” the Doctor referred to a memorandum
-pad on the desk—“eleven-thirty to-morrow?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Very well, do so. I’ve no doubt we can find a
-solution of the mystery between us. Good afternoon,
-Tucker.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_279"></a>[279]</span></p>
-
-<p>Toby returned to Number 12 uneasy but not
-seriously troubled. It was nonsense to suppose that
-Frick would persist in his silly story in the face of
-his, Toby’s, denial, or that, even if he did, the Doctor
-would hold the accused guilty on such slim evidence.
-Just the same, he felt none too kindly toward
-George Tubb. Suppose the Principal did believe
-Frick finally and—Toby frowned. “Gee, I’d
-get bounced maybe!” he muttered. “Anyhow, they
-wouldn’t let me play. Oh, well, Tubb will just have
-to ’fess up in that case and take his medicine!”</p>
-
-<p>The thought that Tubb might refuse to do anything
-of the sort occurred to him, but Toby put it
-resolutely aside. Tubb wasn’t that sort, he assured
-himself. Whatever faults Tubb might have, at
-least he was square.</p>
-
-<p>Toby said nothing to Arnold or any one else that
-evening of what was on his mind most of the time.
-He considered going up and telling Tubb how matters
-stood, but he couldn’t see that anything was to
-be gained by that and so he didn’t. At half-past
-eleven the next forenoon he went back to the Office.
-Roy Frick, still bearing unmistakable signs of his
-beating, was there before him. Doctor Collins got
-to business at once.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_280"></a>[280]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Tucker, Frick says that he recognized you perfectly
-the night before last. That is so, Frick?”</p>
-
-<p>Frick nodded, glancing at Toby from discolored
-and still swollen eyes. “Yes, sir. I saw him plainly
-twice. I couldn’t see the other fellow very well,
-because he got me from behind. I just know that
-he was tall and kind of slim. But I saw him all
-right.” Frick nodded toward Toby.</p>
-
-<p>“What do you say, Tucker?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I can’t say anything, sir,” answered Toby
-helplessly, “except that he’s wrong. I wasn’t outside
-Whitson once that evening.”</p>
-
-<p>The Doctor looked thoughtfully from one to the
-other. At last: “You say, Frick, that there has
-been some sort of quarrel between you and Tucker?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, sort of. He—he knocked me down
-one day when I hadn’t done anything——”</p>
-
-<p>“Nothing but bounce a football off my be—off my
-head! And I didn’t knock you down, and you
-know it. You tried to hit me and I gave you the
-shoulder and you upset. Besides, I didn’t think
-any more about that.”</p>
-
-<p>“Is there any one else who holds a grudge against
-you, Frick?” asked the Principal.</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir, not that I know of.” Then, catching
-Toby’s look and mistaking its warning for an accusation,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_281"></a>[281]</span>
-he qualified the statement. “Maybe Tubb
-has it in for me a bit, but I know it wasn’t he.”</p>
-
-<p>“Tubb?” asked the Doctor. “Who is Tubb?”</p>
-
-<p>“George Tubb, sir. He’s on the First Team. We
-had—he thought I did something to him intentionally
-when we were playing one day.”</p>
-
-<p>“And you didn’t?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not intentionally, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“And you’re certain the fellow who pummeled
-you was not Tubb?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir. Tubb is thin, and this fellow was
-thickish and had red—had hair like Tucker’s.”</p>
-
-<p>“I see. Have you found any one, Tucker, who
-can confirm what you told me yesterday as to your
-presence in your room between nine and half-past?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir, there isn’t any one.” Frick allowed himself
-the luxury of a grin while the Principal was
-not looking, but it didn’t last long. It still hurt
-him to move his mouth.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I don’t know,” said the Principal finally
-in tones almost as helpless as Toby’s. “It sounds
-to me as if there might be what you fellows would
-call a ‘catch’ in this business, but on the evidence I
-don’t see but what I’ll have to hold you responsible,
-Tucker. If you know anything bearing on the
-matter that you haven’t told me I think it would<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_282"></a>[282]</span>
-be well to mention it, because, to be frank with you,
-I consider this attack on Frick a particularly brutal
-and underhand affair meriting severe punishment.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby blinked but was silent. After a moment the
-Principal turned toward Frick again. “From what
-you have told me I think it would be well for you to
-be a little more careful in the future of your behavior
-toward your fellows. I’m afraid you have
-a faculty for making trouble, my boy. Should
-anything more of this sort reach my ears I shall
-be strongly inclined to hold you partly to blame.
-That’s all for now. Good morning.”</p>
-
-<p>Frick withdrew and the Doctor removed his
-glasses and polished them deliberately and thoughtfully.
-At last, replacing them, he asked gently:
-“Do you know who attacked Frick, Tucker?”</p>
-
-<p>Toby hesitated. After all, he didn’t know, for
-Frick’s description surely exonerated Tubb. So he
-shook his head and answered, “No, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“But you suspect some one?” the Principal insisted.</p>
-
-<p>“I—I’d rather not answer, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Even if I tell you that a severe punishment
-awaits the—ah—convicted person?”</p>
-
-<p>Toby shook his head again. Doctor Collins
-sighed.</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_283"></a>[283]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII<br />
-<small>TUBB ON THE TRAIL</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">It didn’t take long for the news to get around
-the school. By evening it was known everywhere
-that Toby Tucker was on probation
-for waylaying Roy Frick and beating him up. A
-good many fellows took the stand that Toby deserved
-a gold medal instead of probation, even while
-deploring the fact that he had employed questionable
-means to wreak vengeance. Having some one
-hold Frick while he punched him was not quite
-sportsmanlike. Of course Toby was lost to football
-for the rest of the season, although, as he was,
-at most, but a third-choice quarter, the loss was not
-considered serious. If Coach Lyle thought otherwise
-no one knew it.</p>
-
-<p>Arnold was rabid when he heard the news from
-Toby and was all for a swift descent on the Office
-and an indignant protest backed by affidavits of
-good character. Toby, however, persuaded him to
-relinquish the project.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_284"></a>[284]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Well, then why don’t you go and finish the job
-on Frick?” demanded Arnold. “At least you can
-have the satisfaction of punching his fool head!”</p>
-
-<p>“It doesn’t seem to me,” answered Toby dryly,
-“that that would be conclusive evidence of my innocence.”</p>
-
-<p>“Who said it would be? It would make things
-a lot easier, though, wouldn’t it? It would for me,
-I’ll bet! Give me leave and I’ll do it for you!”</p>
-
-<p>“Much obliged, but I wouldn’t get much satisfaction
-out of it, I guess. No, the only thing is
-to——”</p>
-
-<p>“What?” asked Arnold as Toby’s voice died into
-silence.</p>
-
-<p>Toby shook his head. “Nothing. Stand it, I suppose.
-After all, it doesn’t much matter. And I
-don’t believe Collins will keep me on very long. I
-guess he sort of half thinks I’m shielding some one
-else.”</p>
-
-<p>“You’re not, are you?” demanded Arnold suspiciously.</p>
-
-<p>Toby laughed. “Well, where were you at nine
-o’clock that night, Arn?”</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t be a gillie! I suppose you know that
-Frick will get your place on the First? Mr. Lyle<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_285"></a>[285]</span>
-will have to take some one over, and he’s the best
-there is left, isn’t he?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes. I—I hadn’t thought of that.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, think of it,” growled Arnold. “Not that
-it’ll do you much good!”</p>
-
-<p>Toby did think of it. It seemed to make things
-much clearer to his mind. Whether Frick had
-recognized his assailant or not, he was accusing
-him because he wanted his place on the First. It
-was quite simple. Frick probably thought that Toby
-had no suspicion of Tubb and that Tubb would certainly
-not spoil the plot by confessing. This if
-Frick had recognized Tubb. Toby was inclined to
-think that he had.</p>
-
-<p>Anyway, Frick’s scheme was a success. Toby
-had not seen George Tubb and he didn’t mean to.
-Tubb ought to take the blame, of course, but Toby
-meant to leave the matter in his own hands. He
-couldn’t altogether blame Tubb for taking vengeance
-on Frick, in view of the latter’s offenses, and
-while Toby had no desire to be a martyr he had
-grown to like Tubb and didn’t want him to lose his
-well-earned position on the School Team. So far
-as it was a question of the good of the School, it
-was far better for him to be punished than for
-Tubb to be. His loss to the team meant very little,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_286"></a>[286]</span>
-while Tubb’s absence in the Broadwood game would
-be keenly felt. So, secretly, bitterly resentful toward
-Frick but harboring no grudge toward any
-one else, Toby took his medicine.</p>
-
-<p>Being on probation cut him off from many privileges,
-amongst them that of seeing Yardley beat St.
-John’s on Saturday. Half the school made the
-journey and returned home triumphing. The score
-was 12 to 0 and the game was hard-fought and
-bristling with brilliant plays by both teams. Tom
-Fanning, Larry Snowden and Ted Halliday came
-back crowned with the laurel wreathes of heroes,
-although there were few on the Blue team who
-didn’t deserve high praise. Coach Lyle’s charges
-had worked together and individually in a manner
-to make the School proud of them, and that Saturday
-evening saw a big and enthusiastic celebration
-in the Assembly Hall and, later, outside. Toby
-didn’t attend it, since he was forbidden to leave his
-room after supper without permission from the
-Office, but he watched the triumphal end of it from
-his window and, although none heard but he, added
-his voice to the cheering. He felt rather lonely and
-rather downhearted that night, and even Arnold’s
-return a little later failed to cheer him much. Arnold
-was sympathetic, but to-night he was in an elated<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_287"></a>[287]</span>
-mood and very full of the afternoon’s game and
-the evening’s jollification, and Toby’s mood didn’t
-respond.</p>
-
-<p>On Sunday afternoon Toby ran into George Tubb
-on the stairs. They had not met save in passing
-since the night of Frick’s escapade, and now of the
-two, Toby was the more embarrassed. He would
-have passed on up to his room, but Tubb wouldn’t
-have it. “Hold on,” said Tubb. “What’s your
-hurry? Let’s go for a tramp.”</p>
-
-<p>“Can’t, thanks, I’m in bounds just at present.”
-Toby smiled to show that he didn’t mind, but Tubb
-scowled.</p>
-
-<p>“Look here,” he said, “I want to talk to you
-about that, Tucker. Come on outside somewhere.
-You can walk down to the field, can’t you?”</p>
-
-<p>Toby could, and, after a second’s hesitation, decided
-that he would. Once away from the buildings
-Tubb broke forth indignantly.</p>
-
-<p>“Say, what sort of a game do you call that?” he
-exclaimed. “You make me promise to lay off Frick,
-and then you go and pound him up yourself! What’s
-the big idea, Tucker? I don’t get it!”</p>
-
-<p>Toby stared. “And I don’t get you, Tubb,” he
-said finally. “You know mighty well I didn’t touch
-Frick!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_288"></a>[288]</span></p>
-
-<p>“You didn’t? Then who—then why—Look here,
-aren’t you on pro for it?”</p>
-
-<p>Toby nodded. “But I didn’t do it. I don’t <em>know</em>
-who did it. Do you?” Toby spoke carelessly, but
-Tubb’s eyes narrowed.</p>
-
-<p>“Do I? Why should I? You don’t think——”
-Tubb stopped and swung Toby around by the arm.
-“You don’t think I did it, do you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I haven’t said——”</p>
-
-<p>“That means you do! Why the dickens haven’t
-you said so? What are you up to?”</p>
-
-<p>“Do you mean that you didn’t, Tubb?” asked
-Toby incredulously.</p>
-
-<p>“Of course I didn’t,” was the impatient answer.
-“I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”</p>
-
-<p>“You said you’d think about it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, it’s the same thing, you chump! Let’s get
-this settled, Tucker. What do you know about it,
-anyway?”</p>
-
-<p>“I thought I knew all about it,” replied Toby in
-puzzlement, “but I guess I don’t know anything.
-If it wasn’t you, and it wasn’t me, and Frick says
-it was me, and——”</p>
-
-<p>“Hold up! Better begin at the beginning. I’ve
-heard a lot of crazy stories about it. You tell me
-it the way it was.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_289"></a>[289]</span></p>
-
-<p>So Toby did. And when he had finished Tubb
-shook his head bewilderedly. “I don’t blame you
-for suspecting me,” he said. “But I was over in
-Dudley and I can prove it by two or three fellows.
-And that knuckle really did get skinned just as I
-told you. But that doesn’t explain the business,
-does it? Some one else had it in for Frick and laid
-for him. Either Frick knows who did it or he
-doesn’t know. If he does know he lied to Doctor
-Collins, if he doesn’t know—well, he still lied perhaps,
-but he might have thought it was you, Tucker.
-Is there any other chap in school that looks
-like you?”</p>
-
-<p>Toby shrugged. “There may be. I don’t know.
-I don’t suppose I know just what I look like, for
-that matter. I guess there are other fellows with—with
-hair like mine, though. That won’t get us anywhere.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, I guess not. Look here, why not go to
-Frick and put it up to him? Both of us, I mean.
-I don’t believe he’d dare lie if we were both there.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why not? He lied, if he did lie, when Doctor
-Collins and I were there. Oh, there’s no use
-bothering, I guess. Let’s drop it. I’m sort of glad,
-though, that it wasn’t you, Tubb.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, yes, but if you thought it was me why<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_290"></a>[290]</span>
-didn’t you tell the Doctor so? Why did you let
-him sock it to you the way he did?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, what was the use? You’d have got probation
-and lost the team, and you’re too good a player
-to lose.”</p>
-
-<p>“So that’s it?” Tubb looked away. Presently he
-said gruffly: “Well, it was mighty decent of you,
-Tucker. Guess I wouldn’t have done it in your
-place. Much obliged, even if—if it wasn’t any
-good.”</p>
-
-<p>“It wasn’t anything,” said Toby calmly. “I just
-didn’t see any use in letting Broadwood beat us
-for want of a good left end, that’s all. You’d have
-done the same, though you think you mightn’t
-have.”</p>
-
-<p>“Guess the team would have got by all right without
-me,” said Tubb. “There’s Meadows, you know.
-He’s pretty good, if I did beat him out for it. But,
-say, we’ve got to get to the bottom of this business,
-Tucker. It won’t do to let Frick get away
-with it so easy. Have they taken him over to the
-First in your place?”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t think they have yet. They will, of
-course.”</p>
-
-<p>“I suppose so, unless we can put a spoke in his
-wheel. I’m going to think this thing out, Tucker.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_291"></a>[291]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Help yourself. But keep away from Frick.”</p>
-
-<p>“We-ell, all right. Bet you I could make him
-tell the truth, though,” muttered Tubb. “The toad!
-You wait till we’re through with football, Tucker!
-I’ll make that guy wish he’d never been born!”</p>
-
-<p>“I may have something to say to him myself
-pretty soon,” said Toby thoughtfully. “Now that
-I know I’m not getting you in trouble——”</p>
-
-<p>“Listen! You leave him to me,” said Tubb
-earnestly. “I don’t want him all messed up when
-I’m ready for him. I want him whole, Tucker.
-You give me first show at him and I’ll settle affairs
-for both of us. Is it a bargain?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, if you like. I want him to get what’s coming
-to him, but I’m not particular who gives it to
-him! Well, I must be getting back. I’ve some
-work to do. This thing of being on pro has one
-advantage, Tubb; it gives you a fine chance to improve
-your class standing!”</p>
-
-<p>Monday came, and Tuesday, and although Tubb
-assured Toby that he was still hopeful of clearing
-up the mystery, nothing came of it. Frick went to
-the First Team on Tuesday. Mass meetings were
-held on the slightest provocation and the school
-talked football from morning to night. The last
-scrimmage between the Second Team and the First<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_292"></a>[292]</span>
-was held on Wednesday and Toby went down and
-looked on. The Second, not yet recovered from a
-gruelling game with Latimer High School four days
-before which had ended in a 7 to 7 tie, and deprived
-of the services of a first-class quarter-back, was no
-match for the big team and was cruelly humbled.
-That was the Second’s swan-song, for when the
-whistle blew for the end she cheered the First and
-then cheered for herself and then, cavorting and
-yelling, piled up the hill to the gymnasium while,
-from the stands, followed a long cheer with three
-rousing “Seconds!” on the end of it. After Wednesday,
-save for “skull practice” in the gymnasium in
-the evenings and a thorough signal drill on Thursday,
-there was nothing to be done but wait for
-Saturday and the enemy’s invasion.</p>
-
-<p>Toby had become fairly reconciled to his state by
-Thursday, and was inclined to make fun of George
-Tubb’s efforts to fasten the guilt of the assault on
-the right person. But Tubb refused to give up, although
-he was clearly discouraged. Or he was
-until Friday. Then, just after supper, he pounced
-in on Toby in Number 12 and asked a breathless
-question.</p>
-
-<p>“Didn’t you tell me once that the guy who<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_293"></a>[293]</span>
-punched you the day you fellows played Greenburg
-High had red hair?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Did I? I may have. Anyway, he did.”</p>
-
-<p>“How big was he?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I don’t know. Why?”</p>
-
-<p>“Never mind why! Answer the question! Was
-he bigger than you?”</p>
-
-<p>“N-no, about the same height, I guess, and maybe
-about my build. You’re not trying to make it out
-that——”</p>
-
-<p>“Never mind what I’m trying to do! That’s all!
-Much obliged to you!” And Tubb rushed out
-again.</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_294"></a>[294]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV<br />
-<small>FRICK IS CALLED AWAY</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">That momentous Saturday dawned crisp
-and bright. Yardley Hall School was
-early afoot and there was, from the first
-awakening, a flood of contagious excitement, repressed
-during chapel but let loose immediately afterwards.
-Breakfast, for the average boy was hilarious,
-for the two dozen or so fellows who would or
-might meet Broadwood in the afternoon it was a
-trying ordeal at which the usual viands had lost
-their flavor and where swallowing was often a painful
-task. Fortunately for both faculty and students,
-experience had taught the futility of holding
-the usual Saturday recitations on the morning of the
-Broadwood contest, and all but a very few were
-abandoned.</p>
-
-<p>Toby awoke in excellent spirits that day. After
-all, a fellow can’t have everything he wants, and
-here was a corking morning, the big game at hand<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_295"></a>[295]</span>
-and Yardley trained to the moment; and Toby
-concluded that he had no grouch coming to him!
-Besides, if playing on the School Team meant being
-in such a state of mind as Arnold was in, why, one
-was much better off it! For Arnold had a horrible
-case of stage-fright. He fidgeted and gloomed and
-was alternately a pest and a subject for the deepest
-sympathy. Toby had but one recitation, at eleven,
-and so, after breakfast, he set himself the task of
-keeping Arnold from jumping into the river or
-biting holes in the pavement. A walk seemed the
-best medicine, and the two strolled down to the
-tennis courts and watched there awhile and then
-across the field—Toby tossing his cap over the cross-bar
-of the south goal for good-luck—and went upstream
-along the river bank. Of course Arnold
-talked nothing but football, and Toby let him chatter
-to his heart’s content. Talking appeared to
-make Arnold less glum. Finally they struck inland
-by the golf links and dodged balls for a half-mile on
-the way back, reaching Whitson again at about ten,
-unaware that a visitor had called and, finding Toby
-absent, had gone his way again without leaving his
-card.</p>
-
-<p>Arnold wandered off after a few minutes and
-Toby tried to prime himself a little for the coming<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_296"></a>[296]</span>
-recitation. Then, just before eleven, he clattered
-downstairs and over to Oxford, pausing once or
-twice to hold jerky conversation with excited
-friends. Followed a harrowing half-hour, harrowing
-for Mr. McIntyre, otherwise known as “Kilts,”
-the mathematics instructor, and for a roomful of
-restless and, for the nonce, surprisingly stupid boys.
-There was an audible sigh of relief at dismissal, a
-sigh that swelled to a shout as the fellows gained
-the doorway and piled out onto the sunlit steps of
-the old granite building. Toby lingered to talk to
-Steve Lippman a minute, and there Billy Tarrant,
-the assistant manager of the School Team, found
-him after a long search. Tarrant pushed his way
-through the crowd and grabbed Toby’s arm.</p>
-
-<p>“You’re wanted in commons, Tucker,” he announced.
-“Get a move on!”</p>
-
-<p>Toby hung back. “What for?” he asked. “Who
-wants me?”</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Lyle. I don’t know what for. Something
-about the team. Come on! I’ve been hunting you
-for half an hour.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh! Well, all right.” Toby followed obediently,
-wondering nevertheless. Half-way, a simple explanation
-presented itself. Perhaps the Yardley
-fellow who was to have handled the chain in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_297"></a>[297]</span>
-game couldn’t serve, and they were going to let
-him do it. Toby concluded that this was his lucky
-day after all. The dining-room doors were closed,
-but Tarrant thrust open the nearer one and pushed
-Toby inside. The First Team crowd were seated
-around the training table. Mr. Lyle was talking
-and Tarrant and Toby trod on their tiptoes down
-the length of the room. Andy Ryan arose and
-noiselessly set chairs for the new arrivals, and
-Toby seated himself gingerly, aware that many
-of the gathering had glanced at him curiously and
-that Arnold’s countenance was one big exclamation
-point! Then, between the heads of those near him,
-he caught a glimpse of George Tubb’s face, and
-George was looking at him and making silent words
-with his lips that Toby couldn’t read. He shook
-his head helplessly and tried to listen to the coach.
-Mr. Lyle was going over his instructions for the
-battle in a very quiet tone. Now and then he asked
-a question and some one answered, once or twice
-wrongly. But Toby, consumed by curiosity, heard
-little of the discourse. Even when the manager
-wheeled a blackboard over and the coach made
-circles and straight lines and wavy lines with a
-piece of chalk, and every one else watched with
-almost painful attention and in perfectly soggy silence,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_298"></a>[298]</span>
-Toby just kept right on wondering why he
-was there. For an outsider to be present during
-these mystic rites was absolutely unheard of! For
-a wild, breathless moment the idea came to him
-that Doctor Collins had relented and that he had
-been reinstated on the team. But that was too improbable,
-too absurd for credence! Besides, there
-was Roy Frick over there, looking supercilious and
-self-important.</p>
-
-<p>Then the coach stopped talking, the blackboard
-was moved back to the wall and there was a great
-scraping of chairs. And almost at the same moment
-the waiters came in with loaded trays and a
-cold lunch was set on the table, big platters of sandwiches
-and dishes of plain cake and pitchers of
-steaming hot cocoa and of milk and bowls of
-oranges, and every one began helping himself and
-eating where he sat or stood. Every one, that is,
-but Toby. Toby sat where he had been put and
-looked on in puzzlement. Or he did until the coach
-remembered him and, a sandwich in one hand and
-a cup of cocoa in the other, came to him.</p>
-
-<p>“No appetite, Tucker?” he asked cheerfully.
-“That won’t do. Better try some of this hot cocoa
-and worry a couple of sandwiches down. I guess<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_299"></a>[299]</span>
-I know how you feel, my boy, but there’s no call to
-be nervous.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir,” gulped Toby. “I—I’m not nervous,
-Mr. Lyle. I——”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s right! Wade in and get some food then.
-Glad you got back to us, Tucker.” The coach turned
-away again, his eye on the sandwich platter, and
-Toby followed him.</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Lyle!” The coach stopped. “Mr. Lyle,
-will you please tell me what you—what the—what
-I’m doing here?”</p>
-
-<p>“Eh? What you’re doing here? Why, you’re
-supposed to get your luncheon, Tucker. What do
-you mean?”</p>
-
-<p>“But—but I’m not on the team, sir, and I don’t
-understand. Tarrant said you wanted me over here
-and——”</p>
-
-<p>“Didn’t he tell you why? Didn’t Tubb tell you?
-Hasn’t <em>any one</em> told you?”</p>
-
-<p>Toby shook his head mutely, almost apologetically.</p>
-
-<p>“Well!” The coach took Toby’s arm and walked
-him over toward a window. “I’m sorry. Tucker,”
-he said, “I thought of course you knew. Not that
-I know much myself, though. All I do know is that
-Tubb came bounding to me an hour or more ago<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_300"></a>[300]</span>
-and told me you were square at the Office and
-wanted me to put you back. He said there had been
-a mistake and that you hadn’t done what you were
-supposed to have done. I told him I didn’t think
-you’d be an awful lot of use, after being out for
-more than a week, but that I was quite willing to
-have you back on the squad anyway. So I called
-up the Office and found it was all right and sent
-Tarrant to look for you. That’s all I know, Tucker.
-If I can work you in for a minute I’ll do it,
-but I make no promises. It’s sort of hard lines on
-you, though, and I’ll do my best. Have you forgotten
-everything you knew?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir!” gasped Toby. “Only—only I guess
-you’d better not try to use me, Mr. Lyle, because I
-don’t know the signals very well.”</p>
-
-<p>“Do you know them at all?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, a little. I room with Deering, and he’s
-coached me some so I could sort of coach him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Get Curran to go through them with you. I’ll
-speak to him. If you’ll get them pat between now
-and the last half, Tucker, I’ll see that you get your
-letter. Now get some food into you.”</p>
-
-<p>Toby seized on as many sandwiches as one hand
-would hold and poured out a glass of milk. Then<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_301"></a>[301]</span>
-he made his way around the table to Tubb. “What
-happened?” he whispered.</p>
-
-<p>Tubb grinned. “Thought you’d be over here to
-ask pretty soon! I’ll tell you all about it, Tucker.
-Wait till I get another hunk of cake. Cake’s pretty
-good stuff when you’ve been off it a month or so!
-Guess this sort won’t hurt you if you eat a loaf
-of it! Now, then. Remember telling me that Frick——”
-Tubb lowered his voice and glanced about
-him, edging further from the throng. “Remember
-telling me that Frick had a row with some of the
-town boys one night a long while ago?”</p>
-
-<p>Toby nodded. “Arnold told me about it,” he
-said.</p>
-
-<p>“Well. Then do you remember telling me about
-a red-headed chap who punched you in the face the
-day the Second played Greenburg?”</p>
-
-<p>Toby began to see light. “You mean he was the
-one who——”</p>
-
-<p>“Sure! All I did was put two and two together.
-Then, last night, I risked being caught out of
-bounds and hunted the guy up. It wasn’t hard. The
-first loafer in Greenburg I asked recognized the
-description and sent me to a pool parlor. He was
-there all right and I got him to come outside and
-talk. He was willing to talk, too. Seems that he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_302"></a>[302]</span>
-and two or three others got into a scrap with about
-the same number of our fellows one evening just
-across the bridge and he and Frick sort of took to
-each other and were having a merry scrap until
-Frick pulled something hard from a pocket and
-cut this chap’s scalp open. Sheehan—that’s the
-guy’s name—says he thinks Frick used a bunch of
-keys or something like that. He doesn’t think it
-was a knife, anyway. Our fellows got away—or
-the others did, and that ended it. Sheehan says it
-was a nice little scrap, only Frick shouldn’t have
-sprung the ‘rough stuff’! So he got sore and decided
-he’d lay for Frick and get even. Says he
-tried three or four times, but each time he saw Frick
-there were fellows with him. But the other night
-he found him and got him!”</p>
-
-<p>“He oughtn’t to have done it the way he did,
-though. I mean it was sort of rotten to have some
-one else hold Frick while——”</p>
-
-<p>“Huh! That’s the joker, Tucker!”</p>
-
-<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
-
-<p>“There wasn’t any other fellow! Sheehan got
-as sore as a pup when I said something about that.
-Says he was alone and that every time he knocked
-Frick down he had to lift him up again! Says
-Frick was game, all right, but had to beg off finally.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_303"></a>[303]</span>
-Then Sheehan found his cap for him and went
-with him almost to the top of the Prospect because
-he was pretty wobbly on his pins.”</p>
-
-<p>“What do you know!” exclaimed Toby. “But
-why——”</p>
-
-<p>“Because he didn’t want any one to know that he’d
-been licked in a fair fight. And, another thing,
-Tucker: I asked Sheehan if Frick knew who he
-was fighting with, and Sheehan said, sure he did,
-that he took pains to tell him! So, you see, friend
-Frick lied all the way through. When he got to
-thinking things out he saw that if he could put
-the blame on you he’d get you off the team and
-probably get your place.”</p>
-
-<p>“I guess so,” agreed Toby. “I’m most awfully
-much obliged to you, Tubb. You’re a perfect brick
-to take so much trouble and——”</p>
-
-<p>“Ginger! I enjoyed it. I tried to find you this
-morning the first chance I got, but you were off
-somewhere. So I went right over to the Office and
-waited around and saw the Doctor and told him the
-whole yarn. I offered to get Sheehan up here if the
-Doctor would agree not to make trouble for him.
-Sheehan was sort of afraid he might be arrested or
-something, I guess. But the Doctor said he’d take
-my word for it. After that I looked for you again,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_304"></a>[304]</span>
-but you had a class, I guess, and then it was time to
-come over here. And that’s the whole business.
-How do I stand as a Sherlock W. Holmes?”</p>
-
-<p>“A1,” laughed Toby. “But, listen, what about
-Frick? What did the Doctor say about him?” Toby
-looked around in search of that youth but couldn’t
-see him.</p>
-
-<p>“No use looking for him,” chuckled Tubb. “He
-went out five minutes ago. Some one came to the
-door and called him. Don’t believe we’ll see him
-again for awhile! He will be lucky if they let him
-stick around. I wouldn’t be surprised if he got
-fired, though. It might be just as well for him if
-he did,” Tubb added grimly, “because if he’s around
-here the day after to-morrow he’s going to be
-awfully sorry for some of the things he’s done!”</p>
-
-<p>“All over to the gym!” called Andy Ryan.</p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_305"></a>[305]</span></p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV<br />
-<small>FOURTH DOWN</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="cap">For thirty minutes of actual playing time the
-Blue of Yardley and the Green of Broadwood
-had advanced and retreated up and
-down the trampled field of battle. And now the
-fifteen minute intermission was nearing its end and
-the rival cheering sections ceased their songs and
-the cheer leaders, megaphones in hand, watched the
-slope for sight of the returning warriors. Then
-the cheers broke forth and the squads trotted down
-the hill, Yardley in the lead, and blue flags waved
-and green pennants fluttered and pandemonium
-reigned. On the scoreboard no chalked figures followed
-the names of the contenders, for neither side
-had scored. Never perhaps in the history of the
-schools had their teams waged a closer conflict.
-Not once had the ball been inside either twenty-five-yard
-line in scrimmage, not once had the Blue or
-the Green seriously threatened the opposing goal.
-It had been a hard-fought, gruelling battle in mid-field,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_306"></a>[306]</span>
-the ball constantly changing hands. No errors
-of judgment had given advantage, no fumbles had
-marred the almost perfect play. Twice penalties
-had been exacted, once from each team. Machine-like
-smoothness, thorough teamwork had been the
-order all through the first two periods, and individual
-brilliancy had been subordinated. Both
-teams seemed loath to break away from the safety
-of old-style football, and line-plunges interspersed
-with dashes outside tackle had ruled. Once Broadwood
-had tried a forward-pass, but it had failed
-and she had not attempted a second. It was still
-anybody’s game.</p>
-
-<p>Neither side made any changes as the third period
-started. For Yardley the line-up was still as before:
-Tubb, Fanning, Rose, Simpson, Casement,
-Bryan, Halliday, Noyes, Roover, Deering, Snowden.
-It was Broadwood’s kick-off and Yardley
-hustled the ball back to her twenty and went at the
-line again. The Green stopped her for seven yards
-and Snowden punted to the rival’s twenty-odd.
-Broadwood tried the left end and made four, tried
-the center and lost two, sent her backs at right
-tackle and gained three, and punted to Yardley’s
-forty. Deering caught and skirted back ten before
-he was upset. Roover got two past right tackle and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_307"></a>[307]</span>
-three inside right guard. Deering fought through
-for two more. Snowden punted. And so it went
-while the precious minutes sped.</p>
-
-<p>On the bench, huddled in sweater and blanket,
-Toby watched anxiously with the others. And as
-he watched he strove to keep in mind the lesson that
-Curran had been teaching him since an hour before
-the game. The new signals were simple, but there
-were three sequences that wouldn’t stay put in his
-mind. Of course, it probably didn’t matter much
-whether he remembered them or didn’t, for it was
-safe to say that the coach would not let him in until
-the game was either well won or lost beyond the
-possibility of recovery. But it was like Toby to
-keep hammering away just the same.</p>
-
-<p>Noyes misjudged a punt, his first error, and for
-a long and anxious four minutes Broadwood hovered
-about the Blue’s thirty-yards, the ball in her
-possession. Then the second forward-pass of the
-game was intercepted by Tubb, and, although he
-could not get away, he clung tightly to it when
-tackled and a moment later Snowden had again
-punted far down the field. Ten minutes had passed
-of the precious thirty left. Broadwood, fighting
-back, piled through Yardley’s center for six yards
-and the green pennants waved and Broadwood<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_308"></a>[308]</span>
-voices shouted their triumph. Noyes, limping and
-white-faced, came off and Winfield took his place
-at quarter and the Green made her distance for the
-third time that day. But she was still on her own
-ground. A full-back run ended disastrously and she
-punted to Winfield on his own thirty-seven and that
-slim youth dodged and weaved his way through half
-the opposing team and was only downed when
-twenty yards lay behind him. Yardley implored a
-touchdown in measured chorus. With three to go
-on fourth down, Yardley hesitated. Before she
-had decided the whistle signaled the end of the
-quarter.</p>
-
-<p>On the stands the supporters of the Blue spoke
-sadly or hopefully of a no-score game. The teams
-sought the water buckets and lined up once more.
-But now there were new faces in the opposing
-ranks. Both sides had begun to call on their reserves.
-Snow went in for Casement and Candee
-for Simpson on the Blue team and Broadwood put
-in a new end and a new half-back.</p>
-
-<p>Winfield called for the three yards on a double-pass
-play that sent Deering outside left tackle and
-just failed of the distance. Broadwood opened up
-her play then. Two forward-passes were tried, of
-which the first failed and the second won a short<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_309"></a>[309]</span>
-ten yards. A fake-kick, with the quarter holding
-the pigskin, added seven more. Yardley rooters
-watched in silent agony now. The Green piled
-through for the rest of the distance and the Broadwood
-stands went crazy with joy. But there was
-still a long way to go and Yardley found herself
-again after another play or two and held for downs
-when six inches would have given Broadwood a
-new life. Then came a wild and thrilling end run
-by Deering that took the ball over four white lines
-and placed it on Broadwood’s thirty-six. But a fumble
-by the Blue’s quarter spoiled it and Broadwood
-recovered the ball. Three attempts netted little and
-the ball sailed back up the field. Winfield again
-misjudged and the pigskin went over his head and
-trickled closer and closer to the Blue’s goal-line,
-Deering and Winfield in pursuit and two eager
-Broadwood ends almost upon them. It was Arnold
-who fell on the ball safely just short of his fifteen-yard-line
-and who clung to it stoutly while the
-enemy pounced down on him.</p>
-
-<p>“Six minutes left,” growled Curran, at Toby’s
-side. “Why don’t we open up? Winfield acts as
-if we hadn’t a play in the bag but line-plunges!”</p>
-
-<p>Noyes, nearby, almost too wearied to hold up
-his head, grunted.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_310"></a>[310]</span></p>
-
-<p>“They know everything we’ve got, Curran,” he
-said. “Watch them when we give the signals.
-They’re wise to every move! And those backs are
-wonders! We can’t get away from ’em.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, we might try!” retorted Curran savagely.
-“No use lying down, is there? There we go, back
-at the old hammer again! What’s Tom up to? Oh,
-Winfield’s coming off. You in again? But you
-can’t. Who’s Mr. Lyle after? It’s you, Tucker!
-Boy, it’s you! Remember those signals and shake
-it up, Tucker, shake it up!”</p>
-
-<p>“Tucker! Come on, come on!” Mr. Lyle was
-calling and beckoning. Toby, with heart pounding
-and his throat hot, ran to him on the side-line.
-“Here’s your chance. Know the signals? Good!
-Get in there and put some punch into that team.
-Tell Fanning I say he’s got to open up. Tell him
-the time’s come to score! Give ’em some running
-plays, boy. Put ginger into that bunch. Here,
-Snow! Go in for Casement. All right, Tucker!
-Beat it!”</p>
-
-<p>Cheers and more cheers, cheers for Winfield and
-for Casement, cheers for the substitutes speeding
-on, cheers from across the field, a medley of mad
-sound that beat on Toby’s ears like a cataract.
-Then he was in the squad, Fanning twitching him<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_311"></a>[311]</span>
-aside, Arnold thumping him on the back, Snowden,
-white and gasping, patting his shoulder imploringly.
-“Let me get at ’em, Tucker, will you? Let me try
-’em, will you? Let me——”</p>
-
-<p>“Shut up, Larry! What’s the word?” Tom Fanning
-pulled Toby away. Toby gave the message.</p>
-
-<p>“All right! Open her up! We’ve tried their line
-until we’re sick of it! There’s six minutes yet,
-nearly. Come on, Yardley! Let’s get it, let’s get
-it! We can do it! What do you say?”</p>
-
-<p>“<em>Signals!</em>” shrilled Toby, his voice pitching itself
-up amongst the clouds as it seemed to him. “<em>Signals!</em>”</p>
-
-<p>It was Yardley’s ball on third down near her
-twenty, with five to go. Snowden got four of that
-five and then two more, making it first down on the
-twenty-five. Then began a march up the field that
-is still spoken of with bated breath at Yardley. It
-was a march against time. To the middle of the
-field went the Blue without a halt. Substitutes went
-into the opposing line and back-field, but still Yardley
-advanced. Snowden was the hero of that advance,
-Snowden first and then Deering, for it was
-Arnold who got away from Broadwood’s forty-four
-and plunged onward to her twenty-six. And
-after that it was Snowden again and then Lamson<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_312"></a>[312]</span>
-and again Snowden, and the teams were on the
-twelve yards. Broadwood was fighting for time,
-delaying all she dared. The two minutes had been
-announced when Toby gave the ball to Snowden for
-a final slide off tackle on the left that, if it went
-right, would place the ball well in front of the goal.
-And it did go right, although it took the last ounce
-of Snowden’s strength and he had to be literally
-carried off the field.</p>
-
-<p>Watson was hustled on in his place and Yardley
-was cheering wildly, exultantly for a score. The
-ball lay just over the ten-yard line now. Four
-downs would spell victory or defeat. Less than a
-minute remained. Fanning, almost ready to drop
-in his tracks, whispered hoarsely of a drop-kick.
-Toby, seeing his condition, knew he would never
-make it and shook his head. Fanning didn’t insist.
-Perhaps he was a bit relieved that he need not make
-the effort.</p>
-
-<p>“We’ll put it over,” declared Toby confidently.
-“We can do it!”</p>
-
-<p>But Broadwood had massed her defenses solidly
-and when, fighting now against time as well as
-against the enemy’s desperate resistance, Deering
-had plunged to the left off tackle with scarcely a
-yard to show for it, Toby’s confidence was disturbed.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_313"></a>[313]</span>
-The Broadwood stand cheered relievedly,
-exultantly. Tired warriors staggered to position.
-A babel of shrill cries arose, the referee’s dominating
-all.</p>
-
-<p>“<em>Second, and nine to go!</em>”</p>
-
-<p>Toby studied the opposing defense, a forward
-pass in mind, but Broadwood was set for such a
-trick. It would never go, and if it failed the Green
-would have the ball as sure as shooting. The pigskin
-was opposite the left hand goal-post now and,
-lest a field-goal should prove the last resort, it must
-be kept centered. Toby thought hard and fast and
-then shrilled his signals. Heming, who had taken
-Snowden’s place, hurled himself at the living wall
-and floundered into it for nearly two yards. Broadwood
-and Yardley cheers mingled.</p>
-
-<p>“Roover back!” yelped Toby. “67—33—21!”
-He looked about at the drawn, intense faces of the
-three backs. “Make it good! 67—33—21—111——”</p>
-
-<p>Toby slapped the ball into Roover’s arms, dug in
-behind him and followed, floundering, pushing,
-panting. The Green’s defense wavered, gave, held
-again. Grunts and groans and hoarse breathings
-filled the air, and through them the shrill piping of
-the whistle came.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_314"></a>[314]</span></p>
-
-<p>“<em>Third and seven to go!</em>”</p>
-
-<p>The fake-kick had failed to fool the enemy.
-Toby looked almost despairingly along the line,
-searching for some telltale sign in a Broadwood
-countenance that would hint of failing strength, but
-he saw none. Distress there was in plenty, but grim
-determination as well. Seven yards still to go and
-but two downs left! If only Snowden had remained
-to try the field-goal! Roover might do it,
-but Roover was spent and reeling. A horrid fear
-that failure was to be their portion took possession
-of Toby for an instant and his heart sank. But
-the instant passed and he raised his voice cheerfully,
-encouragingly:</p>
-
-<p>“That’s the stuff, Yardley! One more like that
-and we’re over! They’re quitting! Get into this
-hard! Here’s where we win! Signals!”</p>
-
-<p>Heming again, with Roover once more back in
-kicking position, Heming smashing at the opposing
-right guard, stopping, edging on, and again stopping,
-with every Broadwood defender massed before
-him, thrusting, grunting, fighting like mad.
-And again the whistle and the quick voice of the
-referee.</p>
-
-<p>“<em>Fourth down! Five and a half to go!</em>”</p>
-
-<p>“<em>Twelve seconds!</em>” shouted some one.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_315"></a>[315]</span></p>
-
-<p>“Come on, Yardley!” shrieked Toby. “Get in
-there, Snow! Let’s finish it! You’ve got to do it
-this time! It’s your last chance, fellows! Hold
-that line now! Hold it! Roover back!”</p>
-
-<p>The Broadwood defense widened, the backs
-spread, the ends poised to dash around on the
-kicker. And Toby, noting, was triumphant. Something
-had called back to memory that day when,
-volunteering to play quarter on the second and
-finding his mind blank of plays, he had unwittingly
-sent a half straight into the line and made the distance.
-It was the unexpected that won then, he
-reflected, and now it must be the unexpected to win
-again. Broadwood was certain that the enemy
-would not waste her last chance on a line assault
-with more than five yards to go. Broadwood
-looked for a try-at-goal or, failing that, a short,
-quick heave over the line. Toby looked around. A
-half must take the ball, for the play must go fast.
-He wanted Arnold, but Arnold was not fit for the
-task. Heming, fresher, his young face white with
-excitement and longing under the streaks of dirt,
-must make the attempt. Toby called the signals.
-The tense bodies stiffened. The ball shot back from
-center to Heming. Roover feigned to catch and
-kick. The Broadwood ends came racing in. Confusion<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_316"></a>[316]</span>
-reigned, <a href="#i_frontis">and in the very center of it, plunging,
-fighting</a>, the Yardley ends and backs behind
-him, <a href="#i_frontis">was Heming</a>.</p>
-
-<p>Straight at center he had gone. There was no
-hole awaiting him, but the assault was so sudden,
-so unexpected that the enemy gave and he went
-smashing through. Then the Broadwood backs
-threw themselves to the rescue and the line held.
-For a moment the advance paused and the referee’s
-whistle went to his lips, and in that moment Roover
-charged in behind the struggling wedge, the mass
-moved forward again, a foot, a yard, faster, and
-yet faster! And then, suddenly the defense fell to
-pieces and Heming, his head and shoulders well
-above the sea of writhing bodies, shot forward and
-down and was gone from sight. And from the
-Yardley stands arose a straining shout that reached
-even Toby, buried deep in the wake of the victory!</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>A few minutes later, when goal had been tried for
-and missed, when cheers were hurtling up at a
-shadowing sky and the field of battle was a mad
-scene of Yardley rejoicing, Toby, rather the worse
-for wear, got to his feet, assisted by Arnold and
-Tubb, while about them an impatient mob waited to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_317"></a>[317]</span>
-seize them and carry them off. He cast an apologetic
-look at Arnold.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m awfully sorry, Arn,” he panted.</p>
-
-<p>“Sorry for what?” demanded the other.</p>
-
-<p>“That fourth down. I wanted you to have the
-ball, Arn, but I didn’t dare. You were too done
-up. It had to be Heming, honest!”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, forget it, old dear! Of course it had to be
-Heming! What do you suppose I care? We won,
-didn’t we?”</p>
-
-<p>“Did we?” exclaimed Tubb exultantly. “<em>Did
-we!</em> Why, say——”</p>
-
-<p>“Then that’s all right,” said Toby happily. “I
-was afraid——”</p>
-
-<p>But Toby’s fear was never voiced then, for the
-waiting mob descended on them and rude hands
-hoisted them aloft, and Toby, bobbing about above
-the heads of the laughing, shouting, pushing throng,
-knew for a moment a joy of triumph as great as
-Alexander’s after the Battle of Issus!</p>
-
-
-<p class="p2 noic">THE END</p>
-
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="tnote">
-<p class="noi tntitle">Transcriber’s Notes:</p>
-
-<p class="smfont">Printer’s, punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently
- corrected.</p>
-
-<p class="smfont">Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.</p>
-
-<p class="smfont">Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.</p>
-</div>
-
-<pre style='margin-top:6em'>
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