THE RIVALS OF OAK HALL
For the moment after Dave made his announcement there was a dead
silence. The faces of Gus Plum and his associates showed their
disappointment.
"Going to play us, eh?" said the bully, slowly.
"You'll be beaten out of your boots," said Nat Poole, with a sneer.
"That remains to be seen," answered Roger. "We accept the challenge and
we are here to arrange all the details of the game."
A talk lasting nearly a quarter of an hour followed, in which they went
over such details as seemed necessary. Plainly Plum was ill at ease. He
wanted to chose an umpire, referee, and linesmen from outside of Oak
Hall, but the senator's son would not consent to this.
"I am satisfied to have Mr. Dale for umpire," he said. "And three of
our head students can act as referee and linesmen." And so at last it
was decided, but not without a great deal of grumbling.
"You won't win this time, Porter," remarked Nick Jasniff, as Dave and
Roger were leaving. "After this game you'll never be heard of again in
this school."
"'He laughs best who laughs last,'" quoted Dave, and walked away, arm
in arm with Roger. Jasniff stared after him and so did Plum and Poole.
"They really mean to play after all," muttered Poole. "I was dead sure
they'd decline."
"You never can tell what Porter will do," growled Gus Plum. "I'll wager
he got Morr to accept."
"Well, we've got to wax 'em good and hard," remarked Nick Jasniff. "And
we ought to be able to do that easily enough--with Henshaw and Babcock
on our side. Those two fellows play as if they belonged to some college
eleven."
"Yes, I hope great things from Henshaw and Babcock," answered the bully
of Oak Hall.
When Roger and Dave returned to the members of their own eleven they
were asked how Plum and his crowd had taken the acceptance of the
challenge. Then the coming game was discussed from every possible point
of view.
"Do you know, I'd almost rather beat Plum than some outside team,"
remarked Phil. "He deserves to be taken down."
"I don't like Nick Jasniff at all," said Dave, slowly. "In one way I
think he is a worse fellow than either Plum or Poole."
"He has a bad eye," said Sam. "It's an eye I don't trust."
"Which puts me in mind of a story," added Shadow. "Now don't stop me,
for this is brand-new----"
"Warranted?" queried Dave.
"Yes, warranted. Two Irishmen and a Dutchman got into an argument
and when they separated all three were in bad humor. The next day
one of the Irishmen met the other Irishman. 'Sure, Pat,' says he. 'I
don't loike that Dootchmon at all, at all.' 'Nayther do I,' answered
the other Irishman. 'He has a bad eye, so he has,' went on the first
Irishman. 'That's roight, he has--an' I gave him that same this very
marnin'!' says the other Irishman."
"Three cheers for the new joke!" cried Roger, and a general laugh arose.
"Well, I suppose all we can do is to start practice and keep it up
until the day for the match comes," said Dave, after the laughter had
subsided.
"That's it," answered the senator's son. "We'll do what we can this
very afternoon."
The boys went to their classroom with their heads full of the coming
football contest. Roger had already made up his eleven, largely from
the material of the season previous. But the boys who had gone from
Oak Hall left weak spots in the line which it was next to impossible to
fill.
Then came another set-back, which made Dave and the others gloomy
enough, and caused Gus Plum and his associates to smile grimly to
themselves. Instead of remaining clear, a cold, dismal rain set in that
very afternoon and kept up for two days. To practise on the football
field was out of the question, and all Roger's eleven could do was to
exercise in the gymnasium. Here there was always some one of Plum's
crowd to look on and see whatever was being tried in the way of a trick
or a new movement.
"I hope it rains Saturday, too," grumbled Phil. "We won't be able to
make any kind of a showing at this rate."
"It will be just our luck to have good weather Saturday," sighed Shadow.
Even Dave was disheartened, but he did not show it. Instead he did all
the practising he could in the gymnasium and helped Roger whip the
eleven into shape. As he had said, he did not care for football as much
as baseball, but he was resolved to do his best.
On Saturday morning all the boys were up early, to see what sort of
weather they were going to have. The sun was under a cloud, but by nine
o'clock it cleared up and a fine, warm wind from the south sprang up.
"That settles it, we have got to play," said Buster Beggs.
"Let us go out and practise as soon as we can," said the senator's son,
and called the eleven without delay.
Of course the match had been talked over throughout the school and even
outside. As a consequence, when the time came to play, a goodly crowd
had assembled on the football field. There was cheering for both sides
and the waving of a good many Oak Hall banners. In the small stand that
had been put up sat Dr. Clay and about twenty visitors.
"I don't see anything of Henshaw and Babcock," said Dave, looking over
the field. "They must be going to play."
"There they are, over in the corner, talking to Plum and Poole,"
answered Roger, pointing with his hand.
"They must be planning some new move," said Phil. "We'll have to watch
out for them."
Presently Babcock, a fine, sturdy player, came forward, followed by
Henshaw. Both were frowning, and when Babcock said something to his
companion Henshaw nodded vigorously. Plum and Poole came behind, and
neither appeared particularly happy.
The game was to be played under the rules of that year, with two
halves of thirty minutes each. When it came to the practice Roger's
team did what it could. The players were full of energy, but the team
work was not at all what it might have been.
"Want to tune up!" sang out one looker-on, to Roger. "Get together!"
"We are trying to," answered the senator's son.
Plum's eleven did much better in practice, working in perfect harmony.
Only Poole made fumbles, for which the bully of the Hall upbraided him
roundly.
"Oh, don't howl at me," growled Poole. "I am doing as well as you are."
At length the game was called and the two elevens lined up. They were
pretty well matched, although Henshaw and Babcock stood out above the
others.
"Wish that pair were on our side," sighed Roger. "Each of them has
weight, wind, and cleverness--just the things a good football player
ought to possess."
There was no time to say more. The toss-up gave Plum's eleven the ball
and a few minutes later it was put into play and sent twenty yards into
our friends' territory. Then came a scrimmage and the leather went back
and forth rapidly. The play was ragged, for neither side had as yet
settled down to hard work. There was no brilliant play, and when the
ball was carried over the line by Henshaw the applause was rather tame.
"An easy touchdown!"
"Now make it a goal."
This was not so easy, for the wind had freshened. The ball sailed
outside of the posts, so that the Arrows received but five points.
Again the ball was put into play and now the work on both sides became
more earnest. Several of Gus Plum's players became rough and Plum
himself tried to "spike" Dave with his shoe. Dave gave the bully a
shove that sent him headlong.
"A foul! Time!" was the cry.
"He tried to spike me!" cried Dave, hotly.
"I didn't!" roared the bully.
"He did--I saw it!" put in Roger.
"Have you spikes in your shoes?" demanded the umpire.
"No," muttered Gus Plum, but his face grew red.
The umpire made him show the bottoms of his shoes. Each had a small
spike in it--something quite contrary to the rules, as all football
players know.
"Change your shoes at once, or get out of the game," was the decision
rendered, and Gus Plum ran off the field with a redder face than ever.
The first half of the game closed with the score 12 to 0 in favor of
Gus Plum's eleven. A safety for Roger's team had been made by Dave,
who saw it was the only thing to do when crowded by Babcock, Henshaw,
and two others. The second touchdown made by the Arrows came through
Babcock aided by several others.
"We could whip them if it wasn't for Babcock and Henshaw," said Luke
Watson. "Those two chaps are dandy players and no mistake."
During the intermission it was seen that Gus Plum was having another
lively interview with Babcock and Henshaw. But the two expert players
would not listen to the bully of Oak Hall.
"Something is wrong in their camp, that's certain," was Phil's comment.
"Look here, if you say anything, I'll put you off the team!" cried Gus
Plum, to Babcock and Henshaw, so loudly that many standing around could
hear him.
"All right, put me off if you wish," answered Babcock sharply.
"I'll never play with you again anyway!" added Henshaw. "I've done my
best to-day, but this ends it, if I never play again as long as I stay
at Oak Hall."
"You're out of it, both of you!" roared Gus Plum, in a sudden rage.
"Dawson, take Henshaw's place, and Potter, you take Babcock's place.
I'll show you that I can run a team to suit myself."
"Very well," said Babcock, and turning on his heel he left the field.
Henshaw, without saying a word, followed his friend.
All who witnessed the scene were curious to know what it meant, but
none of the other Arrow players would explain. Soon it was time for the
second half of the game. Two of Roger's players had been slightly hurt,
and their places were filled by two substitutes, which weakened the
eleven still more.
"Henshaw and Babcock are out of it!" cried Phil, to Roger and Dave.
"That gives us a better chance to win," said the senator's son.
"If it isn't too late," returned Sam Day; "12 to 0 is a pretty hard
lead to overcome."
"We'll do our best," said Dave. "Let every man go in for all he is
worth!"
The play was fast and furious from the very start, and inside of two
minutes Roger's players had the leather close to the Arrows' goal
line. But then Nick Jasniff with extreme roughness hurled Sam Day to
the ground. Jasniff was off-side at the time and his movements were
consequently contrary to the rules.
"You may retire from the field," said the referee, after he and the
umpire had talked the matter over.
Poor Sam was in bad shape when picked up and carried from the field,
but fortunately he recovered inside of an hour. In the meantime another
player was put in his place and another in the place of Jasniff and the
game went on.