LANNY VISITS THE OFFICE
Practice was light that Monday afternoon, for many of the boys had
suffered slight bruises or muscle-strains in the Corwin game and all
were more or less languid as a result of the continued warm weather,
while, to make easy work more advisable, the light drizzle which had
been falling since early morning had made the field slippery. Several
of the Varsity players were excused altogether, among them Tom Haley,
who had stood a good deal of punishment, and Lanny White, who showed
unmistakable signs of a disposition to go “fine.” Everyone moved
slowly, sluggishly to-day, and the jump that Chester Cottrell usually
managed to put into the team was noticeably lacking. Morris Brent tried
a few field-goals and did so well that it was difficult to believe that
he had twice failed on Saturday. After practice was over, and it ended
long before dusk to-day, Morris waited for Dick and Gordon, who emerged
together from the dressing-room under the stand, and walked with them
across to where the blue runabout, its top glistening with rain, stood
in the lee of the fence.
“That stuff’s come,” he announced. “The fellow at the freight office
called me up after school. I was afraid it wasn’t going to get here in
time.”
“Are you going to move it to-night?” asked Dick.
“That’s what I wanted to ask you about. Mr. Grayson’s birthday is
Wednesday and we’ve got to get the things in his office to-morrow
evening. So it doesn’t seem to me much use to move it twice. What do
you think? Why not have Stuart load it on a team to-morrow afternoon
before the freight shed closes and pull it to his stable and then bring
it around to the school later, say about nine? The dickens of it is
that we’ll have to wait until that old meeting is over, I suppose. We
don’t want the whole school messing around while we’re moving it in and
getting the wrappings off. I wish they’d selected some other evening
for their silly meeting.”
“Yes, but you can wait until the fellows go home. I don’t see any
reason for moving it twice, either, Morris. Your scheme looks all
right. Don’t you think so, Gordie?”
“Yes. You’ll want help to get the stuff unpacked, I suppose.”
“I don’t believe so. Louise and Nell are coming around, and Owen, the
janitor, will be there to help. I can manage all right. Unless,” he
added, “you want to have a hand in it.”
“I wouldn’t be much use, I guess,” replied Dick. “I won’t come unless
I’m needed. By the way, I’ve got some money for you at home. I’ve
collected all but about three dollars.”
“Me, too,” said Gordon. “Only I’ve got more than three to get yet. Some
of the younger fellows hate like anything to give up their money. Get
in, Dick, and I’ll turn her over.”
“Coming along, Morris?” asked Dick, climbing in and laying his crutches
in the improvised rack on the running-board. “You can sit on the floor
if you don’t mind.”
“Get in the seat,” said Gordon. “I’ll squat. All set?”
“All set,” answered Dick. Gordon twirled the starting crank and Eli
began to whir merrily. Gordon closed the gate behind the car and
seated himself on the floor, and Eli chugged off down A Street toward
Brentwood.
“By the way,” announced Morris, “the girls are going around to the
meeting to-morrow night, Dick. Louise is sputtering with indignation
and declares that if it comes to a vote they’ll see that you come out
all right!”
“Votes for women!” laughed Dick. “That’s very nice of them, but I’m
afraid the fellows won’t appreciate their presence.”
“So I told her,” said Morris, “but she says that all the students are
asked to attend and that the girls are just as much students as the
boys are. Anyway, she’s going, and she’s made about thirty others
promise to go, too. I guess it’s going to be quite an affair!”
“It looks so,” replied Dick dryly. “Whoa, Eli! Good night, Morris. Let
me know if I can do anything to help with the furniture, please.”
As they started off again Gordon began to chuckle and Dick viewed him
inquiringly. “Tell me about it,” he said.
“Oh, it’s nothing, Dick. I was just thinking.”
“Does it always affect you like that?”
“Not always. Only when it’s funny. You see, I was thinking about
Louise going to the meeting. It’s fine to have the ladies on your side,
Dick.”
“Huh!” grunted Dick.
“I suppose it’s because you’re such a handsome beast. Still, you’ve got
a way with you, too. If it was anyone else, now, Louise――――”
“Do you want to land in the gutter?” asked Dick carelessly.
“N-no, not especially, thanks.”
“Then cut out the comedy.”
“All right. But I can keep on thinking, can’t I?”
“Yes, if you don’t do it so I can hear you. Here’s where you get out,
anyway. Beat it!”
“Thank you. And good night, you old heart-breaker!”
The next morning when Lanny reached school he found a summons from
the Principal awaiting him and sought the office with trepidation. He
wasn’t aware of having transgressed any rules and his class standing
was no worse than it had been all the Fall. In fact, for the last
fortnight he thought he had been doing considerably better. The office
was on the main floor of the building, at the end of the long corridor.
Mr. Grayson greeted the visitor pleasantly and asked him to be seated.
“Just a moment, White, if you please,” he added as he returned to some
writing he was doing.
Mr. Grayson was short and square, with a head that seemed just a little
too large for his body. His thick, wiry hair was sprinkled with gray,
as was his short beard and closely-cropped mustache. From behind his
glasses a pair of mild, thoughtful brown eyes looked gravely on the
world from under heavy, grizzled brows. Mr. Grayson impressed one as
being strong physically and mentally, and not only strong but capable.
His countenance, in spite of its accustomed gravity――and the Principal
was seldom seen to smile――was, on the whole, pleasant and kindly.
While Mr. Grayson continued his writing, Lanny looked about the
office with a new interest. It did, he told himself, certainly need
new furnishings. The carpet, always too small for the big room, was
threadbare in places and so faded that it was difficult to guess its
original color. The flat-top oak desk was stained and battered, and
when, presently, the Principal leaned back in his swivel-chair it
squeaked most excruciatingly. Mr. Grayson removed his glasses and,
being nearsighted, squinted a little as he turned to Lanny.
“Well, White, how are football affairs getting on?” he asked.
Lanny was so greatly relieved to find that he was not in for a caution
regarding his class standing that for an instant he found it hard to
focus his thoughts on the question. Finally, however, “Why, pretty
well, sir,” he answered vaguely.
“Hm!” Mr. Grayson thoughtfully polished the lenses of his glasses with
a silk handkerchief which he carried for the purpose. “Mr. Carter
talked to me over the ’phone last evening. He seemed to think that
there was some dissatisfaction on the part of the school. He said
his son had told him the boys were quite excited and were talking of
appealing to the Athletic Committee to do something, I don’t know just
what.”
Mr. Carter was one of the graduate members of the Committee and had a
son in High School.
“Yes, sir, there is some talk,” acknowledged Lanny. “There’s to be a
meeting to-night. The fellows don’t like it that the team has been
beaten so often. But I don’t see what good it is going to do to stir up
a lot of talk and trouble, Mr. Grayson.”
“I see. Mr. Carter rather inferred that the boys held the coach to
blame. Is that the way it is?”
“Yes, I think so. They seem to have it in for the team and for Lovering
too. We haven’t made a very good showing so far, sir, and that’s a
fact, but Lovering’s aiming at the Springdale game and doesn’t care so
much about the others. As far as I’m concerned, I’d like to win them
all, but Dick seems to think we can’t do that, and I’m willing to stand
back of Dick, Mr. Grayson.”
“Do you think he――well, knows his business, White?”
“Yes, sir, I do,” replied Lanny decidedly. “He may be a little――a
little too cautious, but I think if the fellows will let him alone he
will bring the team around in good shape for the big game.”
“I see. And the other members of the team, White? They think as you do
about Lovering?”
“Yes, sir, as far as I know. We’d all like to have won more games than
we have, but it isn’t fair to put the blame on Dick, Mr. Grayson;
anyway, not all of it. The team isn’t as far advanced as it was a year
ago at this time, but not having any coach at the beginning of the
season made a difference.”
“Hm. Last year Springdale won, I believe.”
“Yes, sir. That’s just it. We won all our early games but one and then
got beaten badly by Springdale.”
“I see. Well, that’s all I wanted to know, White. I thought that
it might be well to understand the sentiment of the team itself in
case――well, in case the matter came before the Committee. I hope
Lovering’s method will succeed. That’s all, then, thanks, White. Not
very good weather for football, I take it.”
“No, sir, not very. Good morning, sir.”
Lanny retired from the interview well satisfied. If, as was not
improbable, the meeting voted to appeal to the Athletic Committee, Mr.
Grayson would, Lanny felt, use his influence against any interference
with the coach’s conduct of affairs. That there would be any demand for
a change of coach was not at all likely, for even the most dissatisfied
would surely recognize the folly of, so to say, swapping horses in
mid-stream. But the meeting might ask and the Committee might have
consented to some policy of interference that would have worried Dick
and seriously handicapped him. But with Mr. Grayson on their side,
Lanny reflected, it was very unlikely that anything of the sort would
occur.
“They may talk their silly heads off now,” he said to himself, “and
much good it will do ’em!”
It stopped raining at noon and the field, though by no means in perfect
condition, was better than the day before and practice went very well.
Bruises and strains were forgotten, and a little cold breeze that
made itself felt in the afternoon and sent the heavy clouds scurrying
southward put more spirit into the fellows. The Varsity had little
difficulty in scoring once in each of the three periods of the game
against the Scrubs, and the fellows showed possibilities of attack that
were distinctly encouraging. The handful of spectators who braved the
weather and watched practice were, in many cases unwillingly, impressed
with the work of the Varsity.
The mass-meeting had been called for eight o’clock, and long before
that hour the assembly hall on the upper floor of the school building
was well-filled. The advent of some thirty-odd girls occasioned
amusement and surprise, even, I regret to say, some ridicule. But
Louise Brent and her following paid no heed to the expressions of
the latter. The girls found seats together at one side of the hall
and calmly awaited events. Most of the football players were there,
although, following Dick’s instructions, they were careful not to
group themselves. Dick arrived just before the meeting was called to
order and his appearance created something of a sensation. He found an
empty seat half-way from the front on a side aisle and lowered himself
into it quite unembarrassedly. Some one started to clap, but the
demonstration was quickly hushed. After that the hall was very quiet
for several minutes. The clock over the platform announced eight-three.
At last Sears, the President of the Senior Class, arose from his place
near the front and faced the meeting.
“I have been asked,” announced Sears, “in the absence of――of anyone as
obliging, to explain the purpose of this meeting. First off, though, I
want to say that I take no sides in this business. I’m neutral.” Some
laughter and applause greeted this. “As I understand it,” he went on,
“we are here to talk over the football situation and, possibly, take
steps to improve it. Just now the first thing to do is, I presume, to
appoint a chairman. Nominations are in order.”
“I nominate Toby Sears,” said some one.
“Second it!” called another voice.
“You’ve heard the motion, fellows. Those in favor will say ‘Aye,’
opposed, ‘No.’ The ayes have it. It is a vote.” Sears left his place on
the floor and ascended the platform, taking his seat behind the small
table in the center. “Now, gentlemen, what is your pleasure?”