LUDLOW SCORES A SAFETY
“Won’t hurt him,” said Kitty. “Get some water, someone.” May and Matty
dashed helter skelter in the direction of the spring before they
realized that they had nothing to bring water back in. Rodney, however,
who had brought the cups from the ledge when he had gone for the coats,
tumbled them out of a box and sped after the girls. When they got back
Tad’s eyelids were already fluttering, and when Matty had applied her
handkerchief, dipped in water from a cup, to Tad’s forehead the latter
heaved a deep sigh and looked about him.
“Where the dickens――” he began. Then recollection returned and he
frowned. “Gee, I went and fainted, didn’t I?” he asked disgustedly.
“Ain’t I the fine little hero? Say, let’s go home!”
“Don’t get up yet,” begged Matty. “You’d better rest awhile. Hadn’t he,
Phineas?”
“Yes. Got a long walk ahead. Better have a good rest.”
“Put your head in my lap, Tad,” said Matty, seating herself on the
ground. “You’ll be more comfortable.”
“Oh, thunder!” said Tad, with a sheepish grin. But he allowed Rodney to
hitch his shoulders up, and Matty squirmed nearer, and Tad’s head went
back with a sigh.
“I say, Kitty,” he said after a moment, during which the color began to
creep back into his cheeks.
“What?”
“Thanks.”
“That’s all right,” answered Kitty gruffly. “It wasn’t anything.”
“Oh, Kitty!” said May.
“Yes, it’s all right now,” responded Tad gravely, “but there was a time
when I thought it wasn’t going to be. I――I’m sorry I made such an ass
of myself, fellows――and ladies. I hadn’t any business trying it. I’d
never done any climbing before.”
“Yes, you certainly were an ass,” agreed Rodney severely. He as
onlooker had perhaps felt the nervous strain more than Kitty himself,
and was inclined to be a bit cross. “We told you not to do it.”
Matty gazed at him reproachfully, and May murmured, “Don’t, Rod!” But
Tad smiled. “That’s so. I own up. You may kick me when I get up.”
“I don’t want to kick you,” responded Rodney grudgingly, “but I do
think――” However Matty’s imploring gaze moved him to silence. Kitty,
blinking at Tad, said,
“Foolish thing to try if you’ve never done it. Thought from what you
said you had. Otherwise I wouldn’t have let you try. It follows.”
“You were certainly a brick, Kitty,” said Tad feelingly. “And I don’t
know how to thank you. I guess if you hadn’t got along about when you
did――” Tad paused, shuddered and then smiled. “I guess Stacey would
have had to find a new roommate, what?”
“Oh, Tad!” murmured May.
“Shut up!” growled Rodney.
“All right. Say, you fellows, what time is it?” Tad sat up suddenly and
stared anxiously while Kitty pulled leisurely at his fob. “What? ’Most
one? Say, you fellows will be late for practice!”
“Can’t be helped, I guess,” answered Kitty. “Besides, there isn’t any
practice today. We play Ludlow. Won’t need us anyhow.”
“I tell you what,” said Tad. “The rest of you start along. I――I’m a
bit weak on my pins yet, but I’ll follow in a little while. Maybe I’ll
catch you up.” He winked at Rodney. Kitty shook his head.
“Better keep together, I guess,” he said. “No hurry. Plenty of time.
Think so, Rod?”
“Yes, Cotting won’t mind for once if we don’t report on time.”
They rested there fully a half-hour. Then Kitty, who had taken command
of the situation the instant he had shed his shoes to begin his climb
to the rescue, gave permission to start homeward. By that time Tad
seemed quite himself again, and the first thing he did was to walk
around the Rock and follow with his eyes the course of his climb and
of Kitty’s. It looked pretty high up from down there, and the wall of
granite seemed even more perpendicular than it really was. Tad shook
his head.
“I don’t see how I got as far as I did,” he said.
“Neither do I,” returned Kitty. “You got off the track after you
left the fissure. Ought to have gone almost straight up. See that
three-cornered rock sticking out at the left? That’s the way. Instead
you went off across that face. Risky. Might have fallen. Next time――――”
“Huh?” demanded Tad.
“Next time,” repeated Kitty, blinking.
“There isn’t going to be any next time,” replied Tad with emphasis. “I
don’t believe I was cut out for a mountain climber.”
“Next time,” continued Kitty as though he had not heard, “pull yourself
until you get your knee over that three cornered rock. After that the
ledge slopes more and you can crawl up. Not very hard.”
Tad observed the rock in question thoughtfully, darted a look at
Kitty and nodded. “All right. If I ever do try it again, Kitty, I’ll
remember.”
“You will,” said Kitty. “Sooner or later. They always do.”
“If you ever do, Tad,” said Matty severely, “I――I’ll never, never
forgive you!”
Tad made no answer, but a few moments later when they were descending
the hill, he paused and looked back at Finger Rock. “It doesn’t look so
hard from here, does it?” he asked Rodney, who had stopped beside him.
“And I hate to be beaten, Rod. I wouldn’t wonder if Kitty is right.”
“About what?”
“He says they always try again sooner or later. Somehow, I think I’d
like to have another go at it some day.”
“If you do you’re a silly ass,” replied Rodney. “Come on.”
The journey back seemed twice the length of the morning trip, and all
save Kitty were thoroughly weary when the turret of the gymnasium
showed at last over the bare branches of the trees. Kitty seemed as
fresh as ever, and Tad, who had naturally felt the walk more than any
of the others, observed him disgustedly.
“Kitty,” he said, “you make me tired. Anyone, to look at you, would
think you’d just walked around the block! Don’t you ever get enough?”
Kitty blinked gravely. Then he nodded uncertainly. “Y-yes, sometimes.
When I do twelve miles at a good clip I――I get quite fatigued.”
“Fatigued!” Tad groaned. “What do you know about that? If he walks
twelve miles he gets fatigued, Rod! Honest, Kitty, you ought to see a
doctor about it. You need building up!”
Kitty actually smiled. The idea of his going to a doctor was really
funny.
The game with Ludlow Academy had started when they reached the corner
of Larch Street; they could hear the piping of the whistle and the
cries of the players, and once a half-hearted cheer from the Maple
Hill supporters. The twins declined an invitation to see the contest,
declaring that they must hurry home for fear that Mrs. Binner was
worrying about them, and Tad volunteered to go along as escort. Kitty
and Rodney turned into Larch Street and hurried toward the field. They
had not gone far, however, when Tad shouted to Kitty and they stopped
and waited for him.
“I don’t believe I half thanked you, Kitty,” he said earnestly and
embarrassedly. “I do though, awfully. What you did was terribly plucky,
and――and I certainly do appreciate it. I guess――I guess you saved my
life, old man.”
Kitty, to his horror, found himself shaking hands.
“You’re welcome,” he muttered. “Nothing at all, really. Glad I could
help. I――er――we’d better get along, Rod. Cotting will be mad. See you
later, Tad.”
And Kitty hurried away with evident relief, leaving Rodney to smile at
Tad and then follow. Rodney caught Kitty at the gate.
“Seems to me,” said Kitty, “we’d better not say anything about what
happened, eh? Might――might make a rumpus. Faculty might stop fellows
going to the Rock. Better keep mum, eh?”
Rodney laughed as they entered the field. “Much you care about that,
Kitty. All you’re afraid of is that fellows might find out what a
blooming hero you are.” Then he added teasingly, “I’m going to tell
all about everything, Kitty.”
“If you do,” said Kitty earnestly and convincingly, “I――I’ll lick you!”
Their explanation to Mr. Cotting, which made no mention of the real
cause for tardiness, passed muster, although the coach didn’t hesitate
to assure them that if it occurred again they’d lose their places.
Today, as it happened, their services were not in demand until late in
the last period of the contest. They watched the game until the first
half ended and then followed the team to the gymnasium and got into
their togs. Maple Hill had piled up twenty-one points against Ludlow
in those first two ten-minute periods, while Ludlow, with a very weak
line, had proved even weaker on attack than defence and had failed to
score. But in the third period a miserable fumble by Fuller, who had
taken Wynant’s place at right half, gave Ludlow her chance. One of her
forwards fell on the ball on Maple Hill’s twenty-two yard line. Two
attacks on the ends of the Green-and-Gray line failed of results, and
a forward pass struck the ground. On the fourth down Ludlow sent back
her quarter to try a field goal. It was an easy task, but the quarter
was slow, and the ball was partly blocked and came to earth near the
five yard line. Stacey Trowbridge got it on the bound, but before he
could run it back he was tackled by a Ludlow end and thrown across the
goal line for a safety. Maple Hill was disgusted and Ludlow jubilant.
Her two or three dozen rooters on the further side of the field managed
to make a deal of noise in celebration of those two points.
But that was the last of the visitors’ success. From then on Maple
Hill, peeved by the mischance that had allowed such a weak team
to score upon her, literally ripped the Ludlow line to pieces and
scored almost at will. Thirteen points in the third period and six
in the fourth――Cotting sent in seven substitutes in that last ten
minutes――piled up a grand total of forty, against which Ludlow’s two
looked less objectionable. Kitty and Rodney each had a few minutes of
work in the final period, but neither was in the lineup long enough
to distinguish himself. After the game was finished Stacey was very
glum over that safety, and refused to be comforted although Kitty and
Rodney on the way back to Westcott’s ventured consolation.
“If you hadn’t grabbed the ball one of the Ludlow chaps would have got
it and scored a touchdown,” said Rodney. “Better to let them have a
safety than that.”
“I ought to have seen how near the line I was,” replied Stacey
gloomily. “I ought never to have let him throw me over it.”
“Shucks! What’s two points, Stacey?”
“A whole lot when they shouldn’t have scored, Rod! It was a piece of
bonehead work, that’s what it was.”
“Don’t think,” observed Kitty, “that I’d worry much about it; not if
I’d played the way you played today. Silly, I call it!”
“Do, eh?” Stacey smiled for the first time since the occurrence. “What
do you know about football anyway, Kitty?”
Kitty blinked several times before he answered. Then, “Not much, maybe.
Learning though. Still, fellow doesn’t have to know a heap of football
to know that it’s no use troubling over spilled milk. Doesn’t get you
anything. Waste of energy. Bad for you.”