DICK’S REMARKABLE PLAY.
All unaware of the suspicion that had been aroused against him in the
heart of Professor Gunn, Dick Merriwell went about his daily tasks and
practised regularly on the football-field. At first he had thought of
leaving the academy. He had even started to do so. But his blood cooled,
and he resolved to wait and fight it out with his enemies.
His surprise was great when the days slipped by and he heard nothing
further of the affair. Several times he was tempted to go to Professor
Gunn and demand to know what was being done, but each time he decided to
wait.
So the time passed and the day of the football-game with Rivermouth came
round. This time Fardale was to play away from home, Rivermouth being
more than twenty miles away.
The day was gloomy and threatening when the team boarded the train, and
few of them were in high spirits.
As it was Saturday and a half-holiday, quite a large number of cadets
accompanied the team. However, Captain Nunn had expected the crowd of
"rooters" would be larger, and he was somewhat displeased because it was
not.
Frank Merriwell, the coach, was with the team, and he did more than
anybody else to give it spirit and courage.
Teddy Smart had scraped together enough change to purchase a round-trip
ticket to Rivermouth, and he boarded the smoker of the train, with two
packages of cigarettes and a determination to enjoy "a genuine debauch."
"What a lovely day!" he chirped, looking out at the cloudy sky. "How
bright the sun is!"
Then he sang comic songs and smoked cigarettes at the same time, and did
all he could to make things lively, until somebody told him that
Professor Gunn was on the train.
"Oh, lud!" he exclaimed, flinging his cigarette aside. "I don’t want to
smoke! I haven’t smoked to-day! I never smoke!"
Rivermouth was a small place, but it was said to have a strong
football-team. On their arrival the Fardale crowd proceeded directly to
the field, which was an open lot about half a mile from the village.
The Rivermouth team was there. Rogers, the captain, came forward and met
Steve Nunn.
"Where do we dress?" asked Steve, looking round.
"Why, we thought you’d come in your suits," said Rogers. "No
dressing-room here. You’ll have to go over to that old barn."
So over to the barn they had to go, and there they got out of their
regular clothes and into their football togs. While they were changing
their clothes Zeb Fletcher came sauntering through the barn in a
swaggering manner.
"Hello, Merriwell!" he said. "Give us a cigarette."
"I do not smoke cigarettes," said Dick quietly, "which you know very
well."
"Oh, well, you may not," said Zeb. "That is, there are times when you
may not."
Dick felt like striking the fellow, for he knew Zeb had purposely
insinuated that he sometimes smoked and broke the training-rules.
"Whatever is that galoot in here for?" growled Brad Buckhart.
When the boys were ready they left the barn and went forth to the field,
near which a crowd of at least five hundred persons had gathered. In
this crowd Dick was surprised to catch a glimpse of Professor Gunn. Not
till then had he known that the professor had accompanied the eleven on
the train.
Zenas Gunn was looking at Dick, and somehow it seemed that he was trying
to bore straight through him with his eyes.
"We’ve got a hard job on our hands to-day, fellows," said Captain Nunn.
"These Rivermouth chaps are much heavier than we are. They are fighters,
too."
"That’s the kind I like," declared Brad Buckhart. "Wouldn’t give a lame
mule or a locoed steer to butt up against a lot of quitters. The harder
the varmints fight, the more they tickle me."
Arrangements were soon made for the game to begin, Rivermouth getting
the ball for the kick-off.
The teams lined up on the field as follows:
FARDALE. POSITIONS. RIVERMOUTH.
Burrows Right end Rogers
Stanton Right tackle Stover
Douglass Right guard Twain
Buckhart Snapback Price
Gordan Left guard Golding
Blair Left tackle Dana
Kent Left end Ryan
Shannock Quarter-back Mercer
Nunn Right half-back Newton
Merriwell Left half-back Dolby
Singleton Full-back Hurting
In this arrangement of the Fardale team Buckhart, the plebe, had been
placed at center, while Blair, the former snap-back, was given Brad’s
position in the line. Douglass was put on the field at the very start,
in the place of Eddy. This had been done through the advice of Frank
Merriwell, who saw that the center of Fardale’s line had been too weak
in previous games.
Of course, both men had been given practise in these positions, and
Buckhart had shown that he was capable of snapping the ball handsomely,
and then blocking any chargers who might try to come through him.
Blair had been a trifle too light for the center of the line, although
he was a gritty fellow and quick in his work. Frank felt that he would
show up better at tackle than at center.
The suits of the Rivermouth team were strong and expensive, but they
showed that their owners had played more than one earnest game in them.
They were not spotless and unsoiled, by any means. For once Fardale
looked startlingly clean and prim in contrast to the enemy.
But this was not all. The Rivermouth team was made up mainly of players
much older than the players on the Fardale eleven, and they were rather
savage in their appearance. It is pretty certain that not a few of the
Fardale players were overawed by the formidable appearance of their
antagonists.
When the moment for play arrived, Hurting, the heavy full-back of the
Rivermouth team, balanced himself, and looked hard at the ball, lying
like a huge yellow egg on the center of the field. Fardale crouched for
the start as Hurting began advancing on the ball.
The big fellow gaged his kick handsomely, and he smashed the oval a
terrible thump.
Far over the heads of the outspread Fardale men sailed the ball, with
the Rivermouth ends coming down like the wind to be on hand when it
dropped. But this early exertion was lost, for Hurting’s heavy kick had
sent the ball fairly over Fardale’s goal-line which made it necessary to
kick off again.
While this result seemed simply to delay the beginning of the game, it
accomplished something Hurting had desired to bring about, for it
impressed Fardale at the very start with a conviction that her own
full-back, Singleton, was outclassed by the full-back of the enemy.
When the ball was on the spot once more and all were ready, Hurting
again kicked off. Again the ball sailed through the air till it seemed
that a third trial would be required.
But Singleton captured it on Fardale’s ten-yard line and punted at once,
as the Rivermouth ends had come through with amazing swiftness, and were
sure to tackle him before he could make a run of any consequence.
In his haste, Big Bob showed up weaker than usual, for he did not drive
the ball anywhere near to the center of the field. Golding, the
Rivermouth left guard, caught the oval handsomely and started to run
with it. He was downed by Burrows on Fardale’s thirty-yard line.
Then the two teams lined up for the first scrimmage. Fardale was ready
now to go into the work in earnest, realizing it had a fearful task on
hand that day.
Rivermouth got into line for the attack in a quick way, that showed
experience, while Fardale was not quite as quick as usual, and there was
a slight mistake in lining up that necessitated a quick change at the
last moment.
There was a lull, the sound of a voice giving the signals, then an
upheaval, a whirling, sweeping rush, a tackle, and the sound of the
whistle.
Rivermouth made five yards on the very first try, and the onlookers were
delighted or dejected, according to their sympathies.
"It’s a snap!" declared a Rivermouth man. "Fardale never could play real
football. This is the first time in four years she has dared play us,
and we’ll show her to-day what football really is."
It was true that Fardale had declined for four years previously to play
with Rivermouth, but that was because Rivermouth had no real standing as
a school team, being made up of both high-school players and outsiders.
This year, however, Rivermouth had seemed to comply with the
requirements. Eaton had stood by Fardale in barring Rivermouth, but
Eaton agreed to play the barred team this year, and so Fardale was
brought to consent, not wishing to seem afraid.
But all the time it was known that several of the players on the
Rivermouth team simply attended the high school there in a perfunctory
way in order to get onto the team. They took no regular course of
studies, and made little effort to progress in any superficial course
they pretended to follow. At least one of them, Dolby, the left
half-back, had played on a semi-professional baseball-team and received
money for his playing. His home was in Rivermouth and the baseball
season was over, so he went in for football.
The first gain of the home team was of a nature to make it seem that
Rivermouth could walk right through the visitors.
Newton had made the first advance. In the second trial the ball was
given to Dolby, and he went smashing into Buckhart.
Buckhart was right there this time, and he stood "with his hoofs
planted," as he expressed it. Rivermouth was held without gaining an
inch.
Thinking this might be the fault of Dolby, the ball was given to Newton
again, and the red-headed half-back of the home team went at Buckhart
with his head down.
"Whoa, dang ye!" snorted the Texan, as he crouched, got Newton round the
legs, and slammed him to the ground, unmindful of the interferers who
had tried to butt him aside.
"There!" puffed the "Maverick," with keen satisfaction. "I reckon mebbe
that’ll hold you for a while!"
Now the Fardale crowd broke into cheers, for this stand of their team
showed that there was no reason to lose courage so soon.
Rivermouth had learned that Fardale’s center was not as weak as had been
expected. The reports of previous games had led Rivermouth to believe it
would find no difficulty in walking straight through the center of the
visitors.
As the teams lined up, the Fardale crowd cheered in unison:
"Ha! ha! ha! ’Rah! ’rah! ’rah! Rigger-boom! Zigger-boom! All
hail—Fardale! Fardale! Fardale!"
And the Rivermouth rooters retorted with:
"Riv—mouth! Riv—mouth! Riv—mouth! ’Rah! ’rah! ’rah! ’Rah! ’rah! ’rah!
’Rah! ’rah! ’rah! Riv—mouth!"
There was another sudden swaying and clashing; a running figure, aided
by interferers trying to get round the end, players in red and black
trying to tear their way to the runner, one breaking through and
clutching him, and then——
The ball was down, Blair having stopped an effort to go round the left
end. No gain had been made, and the oval went to Fardale on downs.
How the visitors cheered then! What was the matter with their team? It
was all right! Those Rivermouth fellows hadn’t made such a big thing
after all in trying to walk over Fardale!
"Good gracious!" gurgled Teddy Smart. "How sorry I am that they didn’t
keep right on rushing through our line! Isn’t it a shame!"
Now it was Fardale’s turn to try the mettle of the enemy, and the ball
was given to Nunn at the very start. With a mass formation revolving
round him, the captain of the Fardale team went into the left wing of
the home team, gaining only one yard. It was not much, but it was a
gain, and Steve fancied he could do better next time.
Following the policy of Frank Merriwell, persistently drilled into him,
Nunn again hammered at the left wing of the enemy, seeking a weak spot.
Again a yard was made, but it was the second down, and three yards were
needed.
Steve gave a signal for a repetition of the play, and Dana was the
objective point in the line when the mass went hurtling at it. This time
Dana was so well backed that not an inch was made.
There were still three yards to gain, and it must be made on the very
next attempt.
For a moment Steve hesitated. Then, satisfied that a kick would be
expected, he signaled for a false play.
Singleton seemed to prepare to kick, and Rivermouth made ready for that
kind of a play. But Nunn’s signal called for Merriwell to run with the
ball, not to pass it to Singleton.
Then Shannock became nervous, or something happened to him, for he made
a wretched pass to Dick, who was bothered in catching the ball, nearly
losing it.
By the time Dick had recovered, the Rivermouth players came tearing
through and slammed him to the ground.
Fardale had lost on downs.
Both teams had showed themselves strong in defense.
It was fully expected that Rivermouth would resume bucking Fardale’s
line, and the visitors were quite unprepared for what happened.
Hurting was proud of his ability to kick a goal from the field, and he
had sought and obtained permission to make a try for such a goal at an
early stage in the game, knowing the natural inference would be that
such a trial would not be made until every artifice to secure a
touch-down had been tried.
Therefore the greater portion of the Fardale team seemed totally
unprepared when, after the line-up, the ball was sent back to Hurting,
who smashed it hard and fair in a drop-kick for a goal.
Fardale had charged the moment the ball was snapped. Blair went through
and hurled Captain Rogers of the home team down in the effort to fling
him aside, falling with him. Gordan was stopped by Twain, but he managed
to make a gap in the line.
Through that gap shot Dick Merriwell, leaping like a panther toward
Hurting.
Plunk!—the foot of the Rivermouth full-back struck the ball.
Then something happened that took away the breath of every beholder, for
up into the air in a most magnificent leap shot the lithe figure of Dick
Merriwell, seeming to stand out clear and distinct far above all the
others. The ball struck him fairly on the breast, lodging under his
out-held and bent right arm, and remaining there as he dropped back to
the ground.
Dick had spoiled what seemed like a probably successful attempt to kick
a goal from the field.