SORE HEARTS
"Dick, I'm so sorry."
It was Paul Drew who spoke, and he limped around the room where his chum
sat staring gloomily out of the window into a mist of rain. The weather
was in keeping with the hearts of the cadets of Kentfield academy.
"It was tough, wasn't it, Dick?"
"It was--very. I suppose I counted too much on winning that game. Others
didn't seem so much to matter. But Blue Hill----"
"I know, Dick," and Paul spoke softly. "But they didn't play fair."
"That's what lots of the fellows say, and I saw you hit once. I've no
doubt but what there was more slugging--but that doesn't excuse us for
not winning."
"No, of course not, but----"
Paul was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Come in," called Dick, but
there was no welcome in his tones.
"Say, old man, you act as though your best girl had sent back your
letters unopened!" exclaimed Ray Dutton as he came in, wearing a
bandage on his head, where he had been kicked in that last
heart-breaking attack on the Blue Hill goal line. "Don't be so down and
out about it. Kentfield has lost before, and lived through it."
"Yes, I suppose so," and Dick turned aside from the contemplation of the
gloomy weather outside. "But it--hurts."
"Of course it does, but all is not lost yet. We have a chance for the
championship."
"A mighty poor one."
"Well, it's a chance, isn't it? If we hadn't had so many men knocked out
we could have won, even at that. Blue Hill made one touchdown against us
by straight playing. We were about to do the same to her. Then they got
one on a fumble. It was my fault for being so silly as to be knocked
out, but----"
"It wasn't your fault at all!" cried Dick. "No one could have played
better than you did. That whack on the head was enough to bowl anyone
over."
"Yes, I guess it was," admitted Ray, as he gently felt of a lump the
bandage covered.
"And the way they handled Paul was rotten," went on the captain.
"Oh, I'm not kicking," declared the plucky guard. "I'll be ready for 'em
next time."
"I'm glad there is a next time," spoke Dick. "How do we stand, anyhow?"
"There are several games yet," said Dutton, "and we can win most of
them easily. The only hard ones are with Mooretown and the next one with
Blue Hill. That's the last, and we need to win that and the Mooretown
contest to get the championship."
"It's a big contract," said the young millionaire with a sigh.
"Oh, brace up!" cried Dutton as cheerfully as he could. "Here come some
of the fellows. Don't let 'em see you in the dumps, Dick."
Our hero tried to look cheerful, but it was hard work. Several of his
players filed in. It was the day after the defeat by Blue Hill and there
were sore bodies as well as sore hearts, for there had been more men
knocked out in that desperate conflict than in any previous one. And, so
said the senior cadets, there was no game ever played by Kentfield in
all the years of her history that was more fiercely fought.
"Blue Hill has the best team in years," said Innis Beeby.
"So have we!" cried Jim Watkins.
"Granted, and we're going to be the champions," went on the big guard.
"But it sure does make me sore to be licked after we practically made
all our preparations to do Blue Hill."
Dick brightened up when he saw that he was not the only one who took the
defeat to heart, and the talk drifted to the various incidents of the
game. It was agreed that Blue Hill had not played exactly fair in a
number of instances, but it was decided to keep quiet about this.
"They'll say we're soreheads if we kick," said Paul.
"I know one 'sorehead,'" remarked Ray with a grimace as he felt of his
wound. "But wait until next time!"
The two coaches were disappointed but not discouraged. They had hoped,
not only for their own prestige, but for the sake of the team, that Blue
Hill would be defeated.
"But I'm glad there's another chance at them," remarked Mr. Martin
grimly to his colleague.
"Yes, I fancy Blue Hill will have to bring along plenty of substitutes
when we meet them again," and Mr. Spencer smiled.
"Oh, the next game is at their grounds, you know."
"Well, that isn't so good for our chances, but even at that I have no
fear of the result. If we can get our boys into shape, and their
injuries heal, I would be willing to stake a good sum on our side, if I
were a betting man."
Porter was one of the disappointed ones, because he had lost a large sum
of money on the result. He talked much about it, and even seemed
inclined to blame Dick for the defeat.
"If he had let me go in earlier they wouldn't have gained so much on
us," he said boastfully.
"Oh, get out!" cried Dutton in disgust. "Why, one of the biggest gains
they made was around your end, and it resulted in a touchdown.
"Well, my foot slipped."
"And I guess the fellow's did who kicked me," said Ray grimly. "But
don't make any cracks like that Porter. You're no better than the rest
of us."
"I'm not saying I am, but I want to play from the start of the game next
time."
He importuned Dick to this end, as soon as active practice was resumed,
but Tom Coleton was again available and the captain did not feel like
displacing him.
"He'd better look out, or I'll fix him!" threatened Porter to his crony
Weston.
"What do you mean?"
"Dick Hamilton. He ought to let me play. I'll get square somehow."
"Oh, I wouldn't talk that way," said Weston weakly. He wanted to be
loyal to his team, yet he was under obligations to Porter for he owed
him a large sum of money. "You wouldn't do anything mean, would you?" he
asked.
"Why doesn't Hamilton let me play then?" inquired Porter, not answering
the question.
"I don't know. You may have a chance for one half of the Mooretown
game."
"I want to play the whole game--not half, and if I get knocked out it's
my fault. But I'd like to see the fellow try to do any funny business
with me," and Porter shot out his jaw aggressively. He was quite a boxer
in an amateur way.
"Well, don't do anything rash," cautioned his crony, but Porter walked
off, muttering to himself.
Gradually the soreness and stiffness of the players wore off toward the
end of the week and they were practicing with their usual vim. Though
many had been on the hospital list, almost the entire Varsity was
available for a game the next Saturday, when one of the league contests
was played with Ralston Academy. Kentfield won easily, and further
clinched her chances for being the champion. But the hardest
games--those of Blue Hill and Mooretown were yet to come.
Of Mooretown, Dick had no fear as to the result, but Blue Hill was
another matter. Still he strengthened his heart when he saw his men in
vigorous practice.
"They certainly are a great team!" he exulted, "and they are as hard as
nails."
Even in the gloom of defeat and in the preparation for gridiron battles
yet to come, Dick had not forgotten his father's troubles. He kept in
communication with Mr. Hamilton, and learned that matters were
temporarily at a standstill.
"They can't get the controlling lot of stock from Mr. Duncaster, and
neither can I," wrote Dick's father. "So matters stand. But I have a new
plan. I am coming to Kentfield soon, and I'll see that obstinate
gentleman myself."
"Dad coming here!" cried Dick in delight as he read the letter to Paul.
"I hope he's in time for the Mooretown game."