KENDALL MEETS AN OLD FRIEND
Yardley Broadwood
Vinton, l. e. r. e., Bishop
Mitchell, l. t. r. t., Scott
Ridge, l. g. r. g., Stafford
Fogg, c. c., O’Brien
Merriwell, r. g. l. g., Smith
Stark, r. t. l. t., Weldon
Norton, r. e. l. e., Furniss
Simms, q. b. q. b., Saunders
Roeder, l. h. b. r. h. b., Reid
Stearns, r. h. b. l. h. b., Raynor
Hammel, f. b. f. b., Rhodes
Such a day as it was for the game! Quite perfect from the spectator’s
point of view; a little bit too warm, perhaps, judged by the player’s
standard; a day of days however you looked at it. The sky was blue
overhead and faded to gray toward the horizon where an autumn haze
brooded above the earth. The sun was gently warm, and the turf, which
had retained much of its summer green in spite of frosts, was dry and
springy underfoot. From the flagstaff over the grand stand the big
blue flag with the vivid white Y hung lazily, for never a sign of a
breeze stirred it. The stands were filled by the time the two teams
trotted out to warm up for the fray, and the Greenburg Band, a cheerful
blotch of scarlet in the midst of the somber-hued bank of spectators,
was brazenly crashing out a two-step. Inside the ropes was a line
of settees on which sat the substitutes, the members of the Second
Team――little badges of blue ribbon adorning their coats――and other
privileged persons. Andy Ryan, the little red-haired trainer, was
there, and Paddy, the rubber, with a fine assortment of head guards
and extra shoes and extra laces and electric tape and two big carboys
of spring water and other necessary articles. In a big pile lay the
blankets, with an extra football or two reposing beside them. Cowles,
looking nervous and excited――it had been a hard and busy week for the
manager――strode by with his big pad of paper in hand. Mr. Payson,
talking to the stranger who had aroused Kendall’s curiosity, came on
and seated himself at the end of the row of benches. Then around the
corner of the stand trotted the Broadwood team. Under or over the ropes
they went, bunched themselves into two squads and set diligently to
work. They looked a pretty good lot of fellows; big, happy, trained to
the moment. From across the field came a mighty Broadwood cheer.
An instant later it was Yardley’s turn to applaud, for some thirty
blue-stockinged youths dribbled onto the turf, Dan leading, peeled
off their sweaters and set to work. Only one boy was left out of the
preliminary practice, and he pulled a blanket from the pile and seated
himself on the bench. It was Arthur Thompson. Five minutes or so of
signal work and punting, and then the officials sauntered on, one,
a chubby little man in a faded purple-and-white sweater and a pair
of stained flannel trousers, called the captains to him, a coin went
spinning up into the sunlight, three heads bent over it and all save
the players who were to begin the game left the field. Payson and Dan
conferred a moment and then the opposing armies fell into position.
Broadwood had won the toss and Yardley had the ball.
“Ready, Broadwood? Ready, Yardley?”
The whistle piped merrily. Ridge stepped forward with two long strides,
the ball sped away down the field, turning over and over in its flight,
and the Yardley players leaped forward. The game was on.
Broadwood caught on her thirty-yard line and, with good protection
for the runner, swept back to the forty. Her first play sought
information. “How’s your center?” asked Broadwood, hurling her
full-back at Merriwell. “Quite well, thank you,” replied Yardley,
crumpling Rhodes up for a half-yard gain. Broadwood seemed to doubt it,
however, for she tried Reid at the other side of center and gained two
yards. Then she chose to kick and Rhodes sent the ball to the Blue’s
forty-four yard line on a poor punt. Stearns, however, was unable to
gain after the catch and it was Yardley’s ball on her forty-five yards.
Simms opened up brilliantly with the Yardley tackle shift and Roeder
went clean through the Broadwood line for eight yards. Stearns slid by
left tackle for three more and it was first down. Simms’s try around
the left end on the next play was killed and Ridge was called back to
punt. The attempt was short and went out near the enemy’s forty-five
yards. Broadwood worked a double pass for four and a straight plunge on
center for three. Then Rhodes punted again and Yardley was penalized
for off-side. For the succeeding five minutes of the period the ball
hovered between the forty-yard lines. The two teams appeared very
evenly matched and seemed to entertain deep respect for each other.
Finally, with the ball on her forty-seven yards, Yardley sent Stearns
around right end on a fake kick play and that worthy young gentleman
reeled off twelve yards before he was brought down. Encouraged by this
and the wild cheers from the Yardley stand, the Blue set out to reach
the goal.
Roeder cut loose for six yards and Hammel made it first down. A
penalty for holding on the part of Broadwood still further cut down
the distance. On Broadwood’s thirty Simms brought his tackles together
again on the shift and Roeder gained four through the Green’s left
wing. Stearns ran wide and dodged past the enemy for three. Hammel
crashed out enough to make first down. But now, near her goal,
Broadwood tightened. Roeder failed to gain, Hammel made three and Simms
tried a forward pass to Dan. But Broadwood was watching and the pass
was intercepted.
Broadwood kicked on first down and the ball went to Simms, who ran back
over three white lines to Broadwood’s thirty-five. Once more Roeder
was brought into play. Five yards resulted, but on the next play he
was hurled back for a loss. Simms tried an on-side kick which Norton
recovered, but Broadwood stopped him on her eighteen-yard line. There
Broadwood stood like a stone wall. Two attempts at the line netted
four yards. Dan and Simms put their heads together, and then Norton
fell back as though to try at goal with a drop-kick. But when the
ball came back it went to Stearns, and he swept wide into the field,
looking for an opening. Broadwood, however, was not fooled and after
speeding almost the width of the field Stearns was tackled for no gain
and Yardley had lost the ball. A groan went up from the Yardley stand
as Simms turned and trotted back down the field. Broadwood kicked out
of danger, Stearns caught near the middle of the field and the whistle
blew.
The second period was almost a repetition of the first. Again Yardley,
after marching from her forty yards, threatened Broadwood’s goal, only
to lose the ball on the twenty-one yard line, this time by a fumble.
Broadwood kicked at once. It seemed as though her policy was to play a
purely defensive game through the first two periods, possibly in the
hope of wearing down her opponent, and then strike hard. Fumbles and
penalties came fast in that period, but Broadwood was at fault quite
as often as Yardley. But the fumbles were not costly, although once
Raynor, Broadwood’s left half, started with a clear field ahead of him
and the ball tucked under his arm. But both Dan and Mitchell gave chase
and pulled him down from behind before he had covered ten yards. It was
in the second that Broadwood tried her one forlorn attempt at a field
goal. On Yardley’s thirty yards, with two downs against her, Broadwood
decided to score from placement. Captain Bishop dropped back, and,
with the quarter holding the ball, kicked, while the stands held their
breath. Bishop’s direction was good but the ball fell far short of
the goal and the danger was over. After that it was a see-saw between
the two thirty yards, Yardley fighting savagely to score, Broadwood
doggedly holding her back and punting whenever the ball was within her
territory. Now and then one side or the other tried an end run, but
never successfully in that period. Dan and the opposing captain fought
a great battle at the ends of their respective lines, with honors
about even. The period and the half ended with the ball in Broadwood’s
possession on Yardley’s forty-six yards.
Yardley was a little disappointed and many expressions of the
disappointment were heard on the seats as the two teams bundled
themselves in their blankets and trotted off to the gymnasium. Yardley,
it seemed, had done all the work and to no purpose, while Broadwood had
played on the defensive and saved her strength. But Yardley answered
defiantly to every Broadwood cheer that was hurled across the field,
the band played heroically, the songs were sung and the minutes dragged
along.
Huddled in amongst the Second Team members, Kendall had watched the
contest with rapt enjoyment. Of course, being only human, he saw where
Simms and Dan Vinton were making awful mistakes, and he wondered
how Mr. Payson could idle along the side-line and look so calm and
imperturbable. As he didn’t know his neighbors on either side of him
well enough to discuss the game with them, he was forced to keep his
opinions and emotions bottled up inside. When the teams trotted off
after the second period Mr. Payson went too, and the man whom Kendall
had seen with him left the bench to stretch his legs and came walking
up the line. He was about twenty-five, a big, good-looking, smiling man
in a brown Norfolk suit, with a small bunch of bachelor’s buttons on
the lapel of his jacket. Kendall watched him approach with a sort of
fascination. He was quite, quite certain that he had met the man and
known him. Why, he even knew the tones of the man’s voice! But who he
was he couldn’t for the very life of him remember! As he came near the
man’s eyes wandered along the benches, fell on Kendall, paused a moment
and went on. But in the next instant they were back again, questioning,
puzzling. Then Kendall did what was for him a very courageous thing.
He bowed! As he did he felt the blood rushing into his cheeks and
wished he hadn’t. Suppose, after all, the man was a total stranger!
But Kendall needn’t have feared. The man’s face broke into a smile of
recognition and he strode straight over to the bench, tucking a cane
under his arm and stretching out a gloved hand.
“Well, if it isn’t Kendall!” exclaimed a deep, pleasant voice. “I
didn’t know you were here, my boy,” he continued as they shook hands.
“This your first year?”
“Yes, sir.” Kendall was still in the dark and the man noticed it and
laughed.
“You don’t remember me after all, do you?” he laughed.
“I――I know that I know you,” stammered Kendall, “but――but――”
“Ever kick a football?” asked the other slyly.
“Mr. Dana!” cried Kendall. “Gee, I knew I knew you!”