CABLE KICKS OFF
There was a final gathering of the council at Dick’s that evening,
what time the School was conducting its last football mass-meeting in
assembly hall. Lanny, Cottrell, Cotner and Tupper attended; and Dick,
of course. Tupper had been asked to come since Dick wanted to go over
carefully the plays that were to be used in the morrow’s game, and it
had been decided that in case Lanny was forced to leave the team George
Tupper should act as captain. They were all rather serious to-night.
Lanny especially, showed the strain. Dick felt it but did not show
it. Of the five, Chester Cottrell alone seemed fairly in his usual
condition of mind.
Together they went through the game from start to finish, providing as
well as they might for every contingency. Plays were prescribed for
this situation and that, and Chester was put through an examination in
the choice of them that would have staggered a less confident youth.
One or two doubtful plays which had been placed in the repertory were
now stricken out, for somehow this evening their judgment seemed to
have found a new clarity.
“Sometimes I think we’ve got too many plays,” observed Dick doubtfully.
“But we don’t have to use them I suppose.”
“The only objection to having a lot is that the fellows are liable to
get them mixed,” said Lanny. “Still, if we drop 3 and 11 that leaves us
only eight ‘freaks.’”
“I don’t like that word ‘freak,’” said Dick, with a smile. “I hope they
won’t prove ‘freaks!’”
“Don’t you worry, Dick,” replied Chester heartily. “The plays we’ve got
are all right. And you’ll find that they’ll keep Springdale guessing,
too. The only one I’m scared of is that Number 10, the one Fudge calls
his ‘secret play.’”
“How the dickens did he happen to think that up?” asked Tupper.
“I don’t know how he thought of it,” replied Chester, “but I don’t
believe it will work, fellows.”
“It isn’t expected to work more than once,” answered Dick, “and then,
as you understand, Chester, only under certain conditions that may
not happen. I’ve mulled it over a lot, and I realize that it’s risky,
but if we pull it off――or try to――we’ll be where it’s going to be
necessary to take a risk. And, after all, fellows, more games are lost
by avoiding risks than by taking them.”
“If it comes to that,” said Lanny, “we won’t have anything to lose by
that play if it goes wrong. It’s to be used on third down, you know.”
“Sure, but wouldn’t another play be more certain?” asked Chester.
“A forward pass?” inquired Lanny.
“Not necessarily. That direct pass to fullback for an end run, for
instance. That’s a hard play to size-up because it’s hidden until the
runner gets started. I like that play and I think it’s going to work
any number of times. But this ‘Secret Play,’ as you call it――――”
“I don’t call it that; I call it Number 10,” remonstrated Dick.
“Well, whatever you call it, I don’t see what’s to keep Springdale from
tearing through on it and smothering it ’way behind our line.”
“Well, you saw how it went yesterday,” said Lanny.
“I didn’t see it tried out before an opponent,” answered Chester dryly.
There was silence for a moment. Then:
“Well, if you fellows think it isn’t going to make good, cut it,” said
Dick. “I may be all wrong about it. And, as Chester says, we didn’t
have a chance to try it in a scrimmage.”
“Mind you,” said Chester, “I haven’t got cold feet on it. That is, I’ll
try it, all right, and make it go if it can be done. Only thing I say
is that I don’t see how it’s going to fool the other fellow!”
“As Dick says,” observed Lanny, “it’s a risk, but we’ve got to take
risks to-morrow. I say use it.”
“All right. That’s good enough for me,” agreed Chester cheerfully. “If
it does go, it’ll go hard; I’ll say that for it!”
After the others had gone, bidding him good night rather soberly on
the porch, Dick took himself to bed. But sleep didn’t come readily
to-night. There was too much to think of. He wondered over and over
if he had done wisely here or well there, wondered for the hundredth
time if his plans, his methods, his strategies were to be crowned
with success. He wondered whether the team was really as good as it
had seemed to him yesterday, even this afternoon. There were moments,
as, tossing back and forth on his pillow, he heard eleven and twelve
o’clock strike, when it seemed to him that nothing but certain defeat
impended, that there was not the smallest chance in the world for a
Clearfield victory! That wasn’t a pleasant vigil that Dick kept up
there under the roof that night.
Some time after twelve he fell asleep, but only to turn and mutter for
a long while after as his tired mind evolved dream after dream in all
of which misfortune pursued him relentlessly.
When he awoke the world was gray and cold, with a foretaste of snow
in the air, and he found nothing in the outlook to inspirit him.
But a cold bath set sluggish blood to tingling again and a cup of
steaming-hot coffee brought back courage and determination. While
he was looking through the papers the telephone bell rang and he
found Manager Cotner on the line, irritated of voice. Springdale had
just telephoned over for thirty-five more seats and they didn’t have
that many unless they could get the workmen out there to put up some
temporary ones. The matter was really outside Dick’s jurisdiction, but
George was so perplexed that Dick gave his mind to the problem for a
moment.
“There wouldn’t be time before two-fifteen to get seats up, George,” he
answered after an instant’s reflection. “Call up Mr. Grayson and see if
he will let you have half a dozen rows of chairs from assembly hall.
I think he will if you tell him your fix. You can put them along the
front of the Springdale section.”
That was but the beginning of the telephone’s activity. Chester
called up next, and after him George Cotner again. George was now
in a condition of sputtering wrath. The Springdale manager had just
telephoned that Wonson, the man who was to have umpired the game,
couldn’t officiate, owing to illness, and could Clearfield find some
one to take his place. Springdale would be satisfied with anyone
selected.
“Get right after Mr. Cochran, George. Try the Y.M.C.A. first. If he’s
not there run around to his house on D Street; the white house near the
corner of Lafayette. I think he will do it. How about the seats?”
“They’re all right. I’m trying to get hold of Stuart now. Sorry to
bother you so much, Dick. Good-by.”
After that until late afternoon Dick had no chance to be gloomy. He was
much too busy.
The team and substitutes gathered at twelve o’clock at the Mansion, the
smaller and quieter of Clearfield’s two hotels, and had their luncheon.
Dick presided and did his best to keep the fellows steady. On the whole
there was little indication of nervousness and the meal passed off
quite cheerily. At one they adjourned to the upstairs parlor, where,
behind closed doors, Dick put them through a final examination in
signals. By that time the town showed the presence of the invader. Blue
banners and arm-bands and megaphones were in evidence on the streets
and the cars coming up Pine Street from the station were well filled.
Manager Cotner joined the team, breathless and tired, just before they
were ready to start for the field.
“I’ve just had an awful experience,” he gasped as he sank into a chair.
“Mr. Grayson telephoned to me for an extra pair of tickets and _wanted
to pay for them_! What are we coming to?”
“Did you let him?” laughed Bert Cable.
“No, but the experience quite unnerved me. Cochran’s going to umpire
for us, fellows. The Springdale chap’s got tonsilitis or laryngitis or
bronchitis or――or――――”
“Coldfeetitis,” suggested Lanny. “Cochran’s all right, I guess. What’s
the time, Dick?”
“Time to go. Are the cars pretty full, George?”
“Jammed! Looks as if all Springdale was here. They’re running extras
through from the station, though, and I guess we can crowd on. All
ready? Come on, then. Gee, but I wish this was over!”
By a quarter past two, when Springdale came on for practice, the
stands were nearly filled. The Blue had a section to herself and it
was ablossom with waving flags and small white-lettered megaphones.
Dahl’s Silver Cornet Band, augmented for the occasion to the grand
total of fourteen pieces, discoursed sweet――well, discoursed music; let
us not be too particular as to the quality of it. Springdale was well
represented, Clearfield was there in force. Dick had given tickets to
Louise Brent and Mrs. Brent as well as to his sister and mother, and
they were seated together in the front of the stand, Louise armed with
a silken purple flag.
Five minutes after the Blue team appeared Clearfield’s warriors emerged
from the dressing-room and, Lanny leading, trotted out to warm up.
Mr. Newman, the Blue’s coach, crossed the gridiron and shook hands
with Dick, and the two talked for a minute. Then Mr. Cochran appeared,
and, presently the referee, Mr. Lothrop, joined the group. At each end
of the field balls were arching over and under the cross-bars, Nelson
Beaton and George Tupper trying their kicking feet for Clearfield
and Sawtell and Norton for Springdale. Morris Brent, although he had
trotted about for a minute with the first squad, had returned to the
bench. At two minutes before the half-hour the teams returned to the
side lines and Mr. Lothrop walked into the center of the gridiron with
Lanny, while from across the field came Captain Torrey, of Springdale.
The two leaders shook hands with each other and Torrey with the
referee. Then a silver coin gleamed for a moment in the sunlight which
since noon had been shining half-heartedly through the sullen clouds,
three heads bent over it as it fell, Torrey’s hand waved toward the
east goal and the little group broke up.
“All right, fellows!” called Lanny cheerfully as he came back to the
bench. “We kick off from the west goal. On the run now!”
Blankets and sweaters were dropped and eleven purple-stockinged youths
raced out to spread themselves across the field. Springdale arranged
herself for the kick. A last cheer came from the stand and silence fell.
“All ready, Captain Torrey?” called the referee. “All ready, Captain
White?”
The whistle sounded. Bert Cable, who had teed the ball to his liking,
stepped forward and swung his foot and the game was on.