THE SPY.
It happened that Jabez Lynch found some excuse that enabled him to be
absent from school a day, and he left Fardale by rail, saying nothing of
his destination to any one. The following day, by an early train, there
came into Fardale a dark-faced youth, who went directly to a hotel,
obtained a room, and retired to it.
An examination of the register would have shown that he had written
there "H. T. Lincoln, Philadelphia, Pa." Mr. Lincoln did not show
himself much about the hotel, for Fardale was a small place, and
strangers always attracted more or less attention there.
That forenoon he received a letter that had been dropped in the
post-office at Fardale. When he tore open the letter, he found written
within: "This afternoon, half-past four. Come."
Shortly before four o’clock that afternoon, Mr. Lincoln buttoned his
overcoat to his chin, pulled on a pair of gloves, set his soft hat well
down on his head, and started out briskly in the direction of Fardale
Academy.
He did not hesitate to approach the academy boldly, and there was
nothing unusual about him to attract particular attention or arouse
suspicion. Happening to meet two cadets, he paused to ask:
"How may I find Elmer Tyke?"
Both professed that they were unacquainted with Elmer Tyke, but they
readily gave him directions and passed on, paying no further attention
to him, as he seemed to be some chap who was seeking to meet an
acquaintance there after the afternoon session.
The stranger, however, followed the walk around to the door of the
barracks, but kept on along the walk, passing round the corner of the
building, and walking swiftly toward another building beyond, the door
of which stood open.
As Lincoln ascended the steps of this building somebody came out,
carrying a book, and passed him without stopping. It was Jabez Lynch,
and, although Jabez did not seem to give the stranger so much as a
glance, any one watching closely might have seen his lips move slightly
when he was at the very shoulder of the other.
The stranger heard these words:
"Lower south room. Be lively. You can get out after dark."
That was all. Jabez passed on and the other walked straight into the
building, disappearing within the dark doorway.
Not much more than twenty minutes later the members of the Fardale
football-team, together with the trusted substitutes, assembled in one
of the rooms of that same building. In that room there were seats,
desks, blackboards, charts, and so forth, indicating it was one of the
recitation-rooms. Barely had the members of the eleven assembled when
Elmer Dow, the manager of the team, came in, accompanied by Frank
Merriwell.
"Is every one here?" asked Dow.
"All here," answered several.
Thereupon Dow closed the door and locked it.
"That will save interruptions," he said. "Now, go ahead, Mr. Merriwell."
Frank Merriwell advanced to the platform, calling the members of the
team down to the front seats near him. The afternoon light that sifted
through the windows was beginning to fail, and shadows were gathering in
the corners of the room.
"It is my intention," said Frank, plunging into his subject at once, "to
introduce and attempt several new and untried plays this season. If you
will remember, it was the introduction of a new and surprising play, the
tandem, that gave the University of Pennsylvania such an advantage over
unprepared opponents a few seasons ago. The tackles-back formation has
been very effective at Yale. The flying wedge, until it was barred by
the rules, was a terrible ground-gainer. Any one that understands
football may devise new formations, but not everybody can work out plays
that will prove successful. I am willing to admit that not all the new
plays I have devised have been winners; but I believe I have struck a
play that will prove a good one with any team until that team gets onto
the trick. If I am not mistaken in studying out the results of this
play, it will cause a portion of the opposing team to play against
itself."
This statement created a sensation, the listening lads looking at each
other in surprise.
"I reckon that must be a corker," said Brad Buckhart.
"Of course," Merriwell went on, "this will be prevented very quickly by
any first-class team when it sees through the trick and realizes what is
being done, but before another team can find out an effective way of
smashing the formation the game may be won. I call the new play ‘ends
around,’ and will now proceed to illustrate it to you here on this
board."
Then, with a piece of chalk, Frank drew the line-up of a team on the
blackboard.
"Now," he said, "pay close attention to my description of the play, for
I want every one of you to get onto it so well that there will be no
confusion when we put it into practise to-morrow."
All were listening.
"At the signal the ball goes to the left half-back. I have chosen him to
take the ball, because it is better to move three men on the right end
of the line and only two on the left end, and the left guard will remain
with the center to hold the middle of the opposing line as the formation
is being made. The attack is to be focused on the center and right guard
of the enemy. The quarter will plunge in between left guard and center,
with the left half, carrying the ball, right at his heels. The right
half must jump behind the left half, grasp him by the waist, and drive
him forward, and the full-back follows. The right guard swings back and
gets the right half by the waist, adding his weight to the assault. The
left tackle swings back in the same manner and adds his force to the
plunge. The right tackle does the same, and the two ends swing round and
back for the same purpose."
As he talked, Merriwell drew lines illustrating the manner in which
every man swung back and formed to advance the ball, making the play so
plain that even a novice must have understood his meaning.
"Supposing the center and left guard have been able to hold the assault
of the enemy," Merry continued, "seeking at the same time to split them
for an opening. Then comes the quarter right through between them,
backed and propelled by the force of nearly the whole line and the other
backs. But here I will explain how it is that I count on assistance from
the enemy, who will also aid—a part of them—in helping forward the ball.
As players of our line swing back, it will be natural for the opposing
players to follow them up. By swinging skilfully and not letting the
enemy through or past, he may be forced to pursue right round and add
the impetus of his rush to help hurl the formation forward. Of course, I
do not say that a crack team will do this repeatedly and continually,
but I believe that, by skilful management, any team may be led to do it
several times in a game, and I think the play is one to use in critical
moments as a desperate resort. For ordinary occasions the old and tried
simple plays will be better.
"This play may be varied as a tandem or a mass. In the latter case, the
retreating ends must form round the man with the ball and thrust him
forward in a body, at the same time protecting him from assault on
either side. The tandem may work well at the start, but two or three
trials may give a quick-witted enemy opportunities enough to get on and
smash through the tandem formation. Then it will be well to try the
mass.
"Now, is there any one present who does not understand the play as I
have described it? If so, let him speak up, and I will seek to make it
plain in any particular detail."
There was a brief silence, and then Brad Buckhart said:
"A galoot that didn’t understand that would be denser than a Rocky
Mountain burro."
Frank smiled a bit.
"I am glad I have succeeded in making it so plain," he said; "but, you
know, Fardale has had a difficulty in being quick to take the signals
and carry them into effect, some of the men finding it difficult to
carry the signals, though our code is one of the simplest. That made it
seem possible that somebody might not understand the full details of
this play. Fardale must liven up before next Saturday in forming to any
kind of a signal. We’re going to meet one of the strongest teams of the
season in Viewland, and we must not let them break our string of
victories."
"Oh, we’ll walk off with another scalp, you bet your boots," said the
irrepressible Buckhart.
"You mustn’t forget my lesson on overconfidence, given you before the
last game. It’s just about as bad as lack of confidence. Hudsonville was
overconfident, and Fardale defeated her."
"Well," said Steve Nunn, captain of the eleven, "the report is that
Viewland is worried. She thought Hudsonville would have an easy time,
but the result of the game has set her thinking in a different way."
"It’ll kill her to death to be beaten by Fardale," said Don Kent. "She
beat us sixteen to nothing last year."
"It’s going to be different this year," declared big Bob Singleton.
"But Viewland will do anything to win," asserted Kent. "Those people
haven’t any scruples."
Then Dick Merriwell spoke up for the first time.
"There are certain chaps here at Fardale who want to see us lose," he
said. "I know them, but, for reasons, I’m not going to call their names.
We have traitors and spies at this school."
"Oh, I don’t like to think that any Fardale fellow really wants to see
us beaten!" exclaimed Steve Nunn.
"I don’t like to think so," said Dick; "but I know it."
"But they wouldn’t do anything to help down us?"
"Wouldn’t they?"
"An onery Piute who would do anything of the sort ought to be lynched
like a horse-thief!" exploded the Texan Maverick, in his forceful way.
"I have reasons to believe," said Dick quietly, "that there is at least
one fellow at Fardale who has opened communication with a member of the
Viewland team, with the intention of putting Viewland onto our style of
playing and our signals."
"Say, Dick," called Buckhart, "just name the varmint, and we’ll give him
a coat of tar and feathers! That’s the sort of medicine that will do him
good."
"As I have no absolute proof against him, I’ll not name him now," said
Dick, remembering how his charge against Uric Scudder had fallen flat
through Jack Glennon’s denial that he knew Scudder.
"I think it will not be easy for Viewland to get hold of our signals,"
said Frank Merriwell, "as the series signals, which will be adopted in
the next game, will make it hard for them to tell what we’re going to
do. But every man here must be sure he has those signals by heart, so he
will make no blunders in the plays. I want to see if everybody here is
up on signals, so I’ll just give a few and call on different ones to
tell what they mean. I’ll take simple signals first, and then follow
with series signals. Ready now. The one I call will answer."
They sat quiet and gave him attention. The darkness was gathering more
rapidly in the corners now, the red and gold of the sunset dying out of
the autumn sky.
"21—37—70—Z—43," called Frank. "Gordan."
"Drop-kick by full-back," answered Gordan promptly.
"Right," nodded Merry. "7—70—Y—16—200—10. Shannock."
"Left half round right end," answered Shannock, with equal promptness.
"Right again," said Frank. "2—7—22—18—Y—40. Blair."
"Left half through center," spoke Blair, without hesitation.
"Correct. 26—28—B—100—4. Merriwell."
"Tackles back; right tackle through center," answered Dick Merriwell.
"27—29—F—100—7. Burrows."
"Tackles back; left tackle round right end," said Burrows.
"21—Z—83—2—1—62. Douglass."
"Drop-kick by full-back," said Douglass slowly.
"Have to think quick in a game, you know," said Frank.
"I never could think any too quick," confessed Hugh Douglass, his face
flushing somewhat.
Many who knew this was true had wondered that Douglass had been used in
the line, or on the team at all, yet all were compelled to confess that
he had done good work for a new man, and seemed to be a steady,
promising player.
"We all seem to understand," said Frank, "that in our code of signals
the players is indicated by a letter and the play by the first number
spoken, except in the tackles-back formation, which is called for by two
leading numbers over twenty-five and under thirty, the signal for the
play then being the number following one hundred. Although this code is
simple and easy to understand, it is hard enough for an outsider, unless
the outsider receives some pointer to begin work upon. But what will
make it more difficult for another team to get onto our signals is the
using of a single signal for a series of three plays. I’ll see if you
have remembered these signals. Ready, now. ‘Brace up.’ Kent."
Quick as a flash, Don Kent answered:
"First play, right half round left end. Second play, guards-back tandem.
Third play, fake double pass."
"Excellent," said Frank. "That’s all right. ‘Hold, everybody.’ Nunn."
"First play," answered the captain, "mass on center. Second play, left
half round right end. Third play, again mass on center."
"And that is all right, too," smiled Merry. "It’s plain you have been
studying your little lesson. Of course, everybody understands that these
series of plays may be changed at any time by the giving of a new
signal. If it is found that the series may not work well, or if it is
thought a better play has been discovered, then a new signal cuts off
the remaining portion of the series and starts the boys at something
else. These word signals will be likely to take by surprise the team
that is waiting for a number to be called before the ball is snapped.
And then will come another surprise when the second and third plays are
made without any signal for them seeming to have been spoken at all."
"Oh, we’ll have Viewland daffy," laughed Big Bob with satisfaction.
"We’ll stampede the whole bunch," said Brad Buckhart.
"We must have a signal for the new ‘ends-around’ formation," said Frank.
"I suggest ‘On the jump,’ and think it best to keep using that formation
repeatedly after the signal until the signal is changed. Do you
understand that?”
"Please make it a trifle plainer," suggested Douglass.
"‘On the jump’ is the signal for the new ‘ends-around’ formation which I
have illustrated here on the board, and the play is to be kept up after
that signal is given till another signal is spoken. Surely that is
plain."
"I understand it now," said Hugh.
Dick Merriwell had risen, without saying anything, and now sauntered
back toward one of the dark corners. Several times he had heard a slight
noise in that corner, and now he took a fancy to investigate.
The others looked at Dick curiously, but, without paying any attention
to them, the dark-eyed lad penetrated to the corner. Then, of a sudden,
he plunged under a bench and pounced on a figure he saw crouching there.
"A spy!" he cried.
Then there was a commotion in that room.