THE GAME WITH DUNKIRK
There was little else to do at the meeting in the way of business. Dan
Hatfield was unanimously named for manager, and then the coaches
announced that after a few more days of practice the team would be ready
for the first game of the season, to be played on the grounds of the
Dunkirk Military Academy, a school similar to that of Kentfield, and
situated about twenty miles away.
"It is rather a disadvantage not to open on your own grounds," said Mr.
Spencer, "but it cannot be helped. I hope you will play all the better
for the slight handicap, and I am sure you can win if you try."
"Yes, Dunkirk is hardly in your class," put in Mr. Martin, "but it was
the best arrangement we could make under the circumstances. You really
need practice against other opponents than your own scrub eleven, and
this will give it to you. If you roll up a good big score, then it will
be time to talk of taking on Blue Hill, and some of the larger teams."
"Blue Hill beat Dunkirk twenty-six to nothing last year," remarked Dick.
"Then you want to take their measure about forty-six to nothing,"
remarked Mr. Martin, "and I trust you do it."
There was some hard practice in the next few days, harder practice than
any the cadets had yet experienced, but the effects of it were
noticeable. They had more confidence in themselves, they were better
kickers, quicker in getting down the field, and in offensive work they
played together like clockwork. On the defense there was still something
to be desired, but that would come with practice the coaches knew.
"Well I guess I'd better go to the railroad station and arrange about
getting the tickets for the team to go to Dunkirk to-morrow," remarked
Manager Hatfield, the day before the game.
"You needn't get any tickets for the team and substitutes," spoke Dick.
"Why not?"
"Because I've hired some touring automobiles that will take us over and
bring us back."
"You have! Say, Hamilton, there's class to you all right! You're a
brick! This will be great, and we'll save the money in the treasury. We
need it, too. I hope we get a good crowd to swell the gate receipts."
The team that was to open the season was the same that had been
practicing against the scrub lately. Teddy Naylor could not make good,
and so was not to play, but he was promised by the coaches that he
would be the first substitute called on, and this was some consolation.
Porter was warned that unless he trained and practiced better he would
be dropped altogether, and his sullen answer was that he "didn't much
care."
As many of the Kentfield cadets as could manage it went on the train to
see the game. Four big cars, which Dick generously hired, transported
the team and substitutes, and they started off amid cheers and songs,
with the auto gaily decorated with flags.
"It's a good start all right," remarked Paul to Dick, as they flew down
the road.
"Yes, and I hope the coming back will be even better."
"Why, you're not afraid of not beating them; are you?"
"Not exactly afraid, but I never was captain of a big football eleven
before, and I guess I'm a bit nervous. Of course we'll beat Dunkirk, but
I want it to be by a big score."
"Oh, don't worry. We'll make out all right."
There was a big crowd in the grandstands when the team and substitutes
drove up, and they were received with cheers as they alighted from the
autos. The Dunkirk team had not yet appeared, but their manager met
Hatfield, was introduced to Dick, and then the lads were escorted to
their dressing rooms.
"There come our fellows," remarked Dutton a little later when, as he
was slipping into his jersey, a great cheer was heard, followed by the
Kentfield cry.
"Yes, and they've got their voices with them," said Dick. "They're great
shouters."
When the Kentfield team trotted out they were met with a rousing welcome
of vocal sounds, not only from their own cohorts, but from the Dunkirk
sympathizers.
"They're friendly all right," remarked Dick. "Come on, fellows, we'll
line up and run through some signals."
He and his men were soon in practice, and the young captain was glad to
note that no one had gone stale. Everyone seemed on the alert.
A little later the Dunkirk team trotted out, to be met with a salvo of
cheers, and then they, too, lined up and began to work with the ball.
"They are a fast, snappy, little lot, but I think we have them for
weight," remarked Paul, looking critically at their opponents.
Dunkirk won the toss, and elected to defend the north goal. Kentfield
was to kick off, and on the whole Dick was rather glad, as he could thus
early get the measure of the offensive tactics of their enemies.
Beeby sent the ball spinning well down the field as the echoes of the
whistle died away. The pigskin was neatly caught, and one of the Dunkirk
players began running back with it.
"Nail him, fellows," cried Dick. "Don't let him gain much!" George Hall
broke through the interference and had the man down before he had
covered ten yards. Then came the line up.
"Watch out now, boys," warned the captain, as the Dunkirk quarter-back
began giving the signal.
At the line of Kentfield came a man, hurling himself toward a hole that
had been partly opened between Paul Drew and George Hall. Into the
opening the man went, but no further, for he was neatly stopped. Only a
yard was gained.
"That's the way to do it!" cried Dick in delight. "Hold 'em, boys! Hold
'em!"
Once more Dunkirk made a gallant try, this time around left end, but
again the man with the ball was nailed, and thrown for a loss.
"They'll have to kick," cried Dick. "Watch out!"
The backs retreated, and it was well they did for Dunkirk had a powerful
ball-booster in the shape of their full-back, and the leather went well
into the territory of our friends.
Hal Foster caught it, and protected by excellent interference he rushed
it well back before he was downed.
"Now to see what we can do!" exclaimed Dick, as he knelt down back of
Jim Watkins, to pass the ball. He signalled for Frank Rutley to take the
ball through right tackle, and it was executed to perfection. In vain
did the Dunkirk captain beg and plead with his men to hold. Dick's
players pushed and shoved Frank through for a ten yard gain.
"That's going some!" panted the left tackle as he took his place again.
Dunkirk was saddened by the advance, thus easily made, though she was
not discouraged. But when Ray Dutton went through the line for another
substantial gain, and when, without the necessity for kicking in the
next scrimmage, John Stiver got through between tackle and guard for
eight yards, then there were anxious hearts.
"Walk up for a touchdown!" called several in the crowd of Kentfield
supporters in the grand stand.
"We'll do it!" cried Dick.
The coveted touchdown came a few minutes later, the ball having been
carried down the field in a series of whirlwind rushes. Paul Drew was
shoved over the line, and then Jim Watkins kicked goal.
"Our first points!" cried Dick in delight. "Now the team is beginning to
play."
And play they did. It was a foregone conclusion after that, and Dunkirk
had no chance. They realized it, and when, after the first half, there
were thirty points in favor of Kentfield, and none for their opponents,
the captain of Dunkirk said to Dick:
"Our only hope now is to hold you down. You're better off now than Blue
Hill was against us."
"That's what we're after," declared the young millionaire. "We're going
to wallop Blue Hill when we get the chance, too."
The second half was a repetition of the first. Once on a fumble Dunkirk
got the ball, and another time as a penalty for holding on the part of
too eager George Hall. The home team tried desperately hard to score,
and several of their men were knocked out, but it was not to be.
Once, when because of a miscalculation, the man with the ball got
through Dick's line, the young captain had a momentary fear lest his
team be scored against. But Hal Foster was on the alert and nailed the
panting man with the ball.
There came some fierce scrimmages for Dunkirk was desperate, and Hal was
knocked out. This gave Teddy Naylor a chance to get in the game, and he
rushed in with eager impetuosity.
"I'm going to make a touchdown!" he declared. "Let me try, Dick."
He was given a chance, and made good, bursting through the line of
Dunkirk players, shaking off a fierce tackle by the full-back, and
making a score after a forty yard run amid frantic cheers.
After that the Kentfield lads took it a little easier, for which their
opponents were duly grateful. Teddy Naylor kicked a beautiful field
goal, and then time was called, with the score fifty to nothing in favor
of "Dick Hamilton's team," as his chums insisted on calling it.
"Oh, but I feel good!" cried our hero as he ran to the dressing rooms.
"You look like a peach," said Paul. "One eye is half closed and your
nose looks as if some one had hammered brass work on it."
"They did, I guess. But you're no picture either. Look at your left
ear."
"Wish I could. But never mind. We beat 'em!"