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LEFT END EDWARDS
[Illustration: The "Forward Pass"]
LEFT END EDWARDS
BY
RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
AUTHOR OF
THE HALF-BACK, ETC.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
CHARLES M. RELYEA
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS
Made in the United States of America
COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY
DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I FATHERS AND SONS 3
II OFF TO SCHOOL 13
III STOP THIEF! 24
IV OUT FOR BRIMFIELD! 40
V NUMBER 12 BILLINGS 51
VI CLUES! 62
VII THE CONFIDENCE-MAN 73
VIII IN THE RUBBING ROOK 86
IX BACK IN TOGS 98
X "CHEAP FOR CASH" 112
XI "HOLD 'EM, THIRD!" 125
XII CANTERBURY ROMPS ON--AND OFF 142
XIII SAWYER VOWS VENGEANCE 157
XIV A LESSON IN TACKLING 170
XV STEVE WINNOWS SOME CHAFF 182
XVI MR. DALEY IS OUT 202
XVII THE BLUE-BOOK 212
XVIII B PLUS AND D MINUS 225
XIX THE SECOND PUTS IT OVER 235
XX BLOWS ARE STRUCK 251
XXI FRIENDS FALL OUT 267
XXII STEVE GETS A SURPRISE 285
XXIII DURKIN SHEDS LIGHT 297
XXIV THE DAY BEFORE THE BATTLE 309
XXV TOM TO THE RESCUE 323
XXVI AT THE END OF THE FIRST HALF 334
XXVII STEVE SMILES 346
XXVIII THE CHUMS READ A TELEGRAM 360
ILLUSTRATIONS
The "Forward Pass" _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
Steve slipped on the tiling and fell sidewise into the water
(page 166) 80
"Lift!" instructed the quarter-back. "Lift me up and yank my
feet out from under me! Use your weight and throw me back!" 178
It was Steve, Steve on his back, with only his head and
shoulders above the water 324
LEFT END EDWARDS
CHAPTER I
FATHERS AND SONS
"Dad, what does 'Mens sana in corpore sano' mean?"
Mr. Edwards slightly lowered his Sunday paper and over the top of it
frowned abstractedly at the boy on the window-seat. "Eh?" he asked.
"What was that?"
"'Mens sana in corpore sano,' sir."
"Oh!" Mr. Edwards blinked through his reading glasses and rustled the
paper. Finally, "For a boy who has studied as much Latin as you have,"
he said disapprovingly, "the question is extraordinary, to say the
least. I'd advise you to--hm--find your dictionary, Steve." And Mr.
Edwards again retired from sight.
Steve, cross-legged on the broad seat that filled the library bay, a
seat which commanded an uninterrupted view up and down the street,
smiled into the open pamphlet he held.
"He doesn't know," he said to himself with a chuckle. "It's something
about your mind and your body, though. Never mind." He idly fluttered
the leaves of the pamphlet and glanced out into the street to see if any
friends were in sight. But it was Sunday afternoon, and rainy, and the
wide, maple-bordered street, its neat artificial stone sidewalks
shimmering with moisture, was quite deserted. With a sigh Steve went
back to the pamphlet. It bore the inscription on the outer cover:
"Brimfield Academy," and, below, in parenthesis, "William Torrence
Foundation."
"What does 'William Torrence Foundation' mean, dad?" asked the boy.
Again Mr. Edwards lowered his paper, with a sigh. "It means, as you will
discover for yourself if you will take the trouble to read the
catalogue, that a man named William Torrence gave the money to establish
the school. Now, for goodness sake, Steve, let me read in peace for a
minute!"
"Yes, sir. Thank you." Steve turned the pages, glanced again at the
"View of Main Building from the Lawn" and began to read. "In 1878
William Torrence, Esq., of New York City, visited his native town of
Brimfield and interested the citizens in a plan to establish a school on
a large tract of land at the edge of the town which had been in the
Torrence family for many generations. Two years later the school was
built and, under the title of Torrence Seminary, began a successful
career which has lasted for thirty-two years. Under the principalship of
Dr. Andrew Morey, the institution increased rapidly in usefulness, and
in 1892 it was found necessary to add two wings to the original
structure at a cost of $34,000, also the gift of the founder. Dr.
Morey's connection with the school ended four years later, when the
services of the present head, Mr. Joshua Fernald, A.M., were secured.
The death of Mr. Torrence in 1897, after a long and honoured career,
removed the school's greatest friend and benefactor, but, by the terms
of his will, placed it beyond the reach of want for many years. With new
buildings and improvements made possible by the generous provisions of
the testament the school soon took its place amongst the foremost
institutions of its kind. In 1908 the charter name was changed to
Brimfield Academy--William Torrence Foundation, the course was
lengthened from four years to six and the present era of well-deserved
prosperity was entered on. Brimfield Academy now has accommodations for
260 boys, its faculty consists of 19 members and its buildings number 8.
Situated as it is----"
Steve yawned frankly, viewed again the somnolent street and idly turned
the pages. There were several pictures, but he had seen them all many
times and only the one labelled "'Varsity Athletic Field--Gymnasium
Beyond" claimed his interest for a moment. At last,
"They've got a peach of an athletic field, dad," he observed
approvingly. "I can see six goals, and that means three gridirons. And
there's a baseball field besides. The catalogue says that 'provision is
also made for tennis, boating and swimming,' but I don't see any tennis
courts in the picture."
"All right," grunted his father from behind the paper.
"I wonder," continued Steve musingly, "where you get your boating and
swimming. It says that Long Island Sound is two and a half miles
distant. That's a long old ways to go for a swim, isn't it?"
Mr. Edwards laid the paper across his knees and regarded the boy
severely. "Steve," he said, "about the only thing I've heard from you
since that catalogue arrived is the athletic field and the gymnasium.
I'd like to refresh your mind on one point, my son."
"Yes, sir?" said Steve without much eagerness.
"I'd like to remind you that you are not going to Brimfield Academy to
play football or baseball, or to swim. You're going there to study and
learn! I don't propose to spend four hundred and fifty dollars a year,
besides a whole lot for extras, to have you taught how to kick a
football or make a home-hit. And----"
"A home-run, sir," corrected Steve humbly.
"Or whatever it is, then. I expect you to buckle down when you get there
and learn. Remember that you've got just two years in which to prepare
yourself for college. If you aren't ready then, you don't go. That's
flat, my boy, and I want you to understand it. So, if you have any idea
of football and tennis as your--er--principal courses you want to get it
right out of your head. Now, for a change, suppose you have a look at
the studies in front of you, and don't let me hear anything more about
the gymnasium or the--the what-do-you-call-it field."
"All right, sir." Steve obediently turned the pages back. "Just the
same," he said to himself, "he didn't know what 'mens sana in corpore
sano' meant any better than I did! Bet you _he_ didn't kill himself
studying when _he_ went to school!" With a sigh he found the "Courses of
Study" and read: "Form IV. Classical. Latin: Vergil's Aeneid, IV--XII,
Cicero and Ovid at sight, Composition (5). Greek: Xenophon's Hellenica,
Selections, Iliad and Odyssey, Selections, Sight Reading, Reviews,
Composition (5). German (optional) (4). French: Advanced Grammar and
Composition, Le Siege de Paris, Le Barbier de Saville----"
At that moment a shrill whistle sounded outside the library window and
Steve's eyes fled from the pamphlet to the grinning face of Tom Hall set
between two of the fence pickets. The Catalogue of Brimfield Academy was
tossed to the further end of the seat, and Steve, nodding vigorously
through the window, jumped to his feet.
"I'm going for a walk with Tom, sir," he announced half-way to the hall
door. Mr. Edwards, smothering a sigh of relief, glanced at the weather.
"Very well," he said. "Don't get your feet wet. And--er--be back before
it's dark."
Steve disappeared into the dim hallway and Mr. Edwards gave honest
expression to his sense of relief by elevating his feet to the seat of a
neighbouring chair, dropping the newspaper and, with a luxurious sigh,
composing himself for his Sunday afternoon nap. But peace was not yet
his, for a minute or two later Steve came hurrying in again. Mr. Edwards
opened his eyes with a frown.
"Sorry, sir," said Steve, "but Tom wants to see the catalogue."
His father nodded drowsily and Steve, securing the pamphlet, stole out
again with creaking Sunday shoes. Very quietly the front door went shut
and peace at last pervaded the house. In the library, Mr. Edwards,
dropping into slumber, was dimly conscious of a last disturbing thought.
It was that he was going to miss that boy of his a whole lot after next
week!
"It's all right," declared Tom Hall as he took the catalogue from Steve
with eager fingers. "At least, I'm pretty sure it is. He said at dinner
that he'd think it over, and when he says that it means--that it's all
right. What do you say, eh?"
"_Bully!_" That was what Steve said. And he said it not only once but
several times and with varying degrees of enthusiasm and volume. And, as
though fearing his chum would doubt his satisfaction, he accompanied
each "_Bully!_" with an emphatic thump on Tom's back. Tom, choking and
coughing, squirmed out of the way.
"Here! Ho-ho-hold on, you silly chump! You don't have to kill a fellow!"
"Won't it be dandy!" exclaimed Steve, beaming. "We can room together!
And--and----"
"You bet! And we can have a bully time on the train, too. Gee, I never
travelled as far as that alone!"
"I have! It's lots of fun! You eat your meals in a dining-car and
there's a smoking-room where you can sit and chin as late as you want to
and you get off at the stations and walk up and down the platform and
you tip the negro porters and----"
"Wouldn't it be great if we both made the football team, Steve? Of
course, you'll make it anyway, and I might if I had a little luck.
Townsend said last year I didn't do so badly, you know, and if----"
"Of course you'll make it! We both will; next year anyway. I'll bet
they've got lots of fellows on the team no better than you are, Tom.
Wait till I show you the athletic field. It's a corker!" And Steve's
fingers turned the pages of the school catalogue eagerly. "How's that?"
he demanded at last in triumph.
They paused under a dripping tree while Tom viewed the picture, Steve
looking over his shoulder.
"It's fine!" sighed Tom at last. "Gee, I hope--I hope he lets me!"
"Let's go over there now so you can show him this," suggested Steve.
But Tom shook his head wisely.
"Not now," he said. "He don't like to be disturbed Sunday afternoons.
He--he sort of has a nap, you see."
"Just like dad," replied Steve. "Bet you when I get as old as that I
won't stick around the house and go to sleep. Say, Tom, what does 'Mens
sana in corpore sano' mean?"
"A sound mind in a sound body," replied Tom promptly. "Why?"
"It's in here and I asked dad and he didn't know." Steve chuckled. "He
made believe he was peevish with me, so's he wouldn't have to fess up.
Dad's foxy, all right!"
"Well, you ought to have known, Steve," said Tom severely.
"Sure," agreed Steve untroubledly. "That's what he said. Let's take that
a minute. I want to show you the picture of the campus."
"Let's sit down somewhere and look it over," said Tom. "I told father
that it was a school where they were terribly strict with the fellows
and you had to study awfully hard all the time. I wonder if it is."
"I don't believe so," answered Steve. "They say so much about football
and baseball and things like that you can tell they aren't cranky about
studying. And look at the pictures of the different teams in here.
There's the baseball nine, see? Pretty husky looking bunch, aren't they?
And--turn over--there you are--there's the football team. Some of those
chaps aren't any bigger than I am, or you, either. Good looking
uniforms, aren't they? Say, dad gave me a lecture on not thinking I was
going there to just play football. Fathers are awfully funny sometimes!"
"You bet! I wonder--I wonder--would you mind if we tore out a couple of
these pictures before he sees it? I'm afraid he might think there was
too much in it about athletics."
"No, tear away! Here, I'll do it. We'll take the pictures of the teams
out. How about the athletic field? Better tear that out too, do you
think?"
"Well, maybe, just to be on the safe side, you know. Don't throw 'em
away, though. We might want to look at them again. Let's go over to the
library where we can talk, Steve."