Out of the Game
All of Garry Grayson's thinking promised to be of little use at this
juncture. The net of circumstantial evidence closed tightly about him
and his friends, and try as he did he could find no way out of it.
Their friends--and they were many--were loyally with them, but since
they could not explain away the strong evidence of those hip flasks,
their friendship was of little practical assistance.
Mr. Allen, put on his mettle by that article in the morning paper and
furious to find the unpleasant insinuations in it substantiated by what
seemed substantial proof, permitted the full weight of his wrath to
fall upon the helpless lads.
He listened grimly to their protestations of innocence. Then he
announced his verdict. The three were to be suspended, summarily barred
from Lenox High for three months, as a warning to the other students of
the school.
It was a terrible blow to the boys. Naturally it was very disturbing
to their parents, who were firmly convinced that their sons were
being wronged. They went to Mr. Allen and urged that the sentence be
modified, at least until the boys could have a chance to unravel the
plot they felt had been woven about them.
More than this, most of the teachers of the school in conference with
their superior privately advised leniency, especially in view of
the unspotted records of the boys up to that time. Mr. Phillips was
especially urgent in asking for a lighter sentence. He admitted the
weight of the evidence was against them, but assured Mr. Allen that
nevertheless he was convinced that the boys were innocent and that in
due time that innocence would be established.
By this time the principal's wrath had cooled somewhat; his certainty
of their wrongdoing was wavering; his own liking for the accused
boys reasserted itself; and he finally agreed to revoke his order of
suspension.
However--and this was almost as much a blow to the boys as actual
suspension--the final punishment meted out by Mr. Allen barred the lads
from all participation in athletic games for the rest of the term.
"I'd rather be suspended!" burst out Rooster savagely. "Can you imagine
sitting on the sub bench and watching Lenox lose?"
"Wake up, feller, you're dreaming," growled Bill. "You don't suppose
we'll get as far as the sub bench, do you? We've been barred from the
field altogether, except as spectators in the stands."
"Even the humble sub has it all over us," muttered Garry bitterly.
"I've tried to be cheerful about this, but it certainly looks as though
we were licked at last."
"Say, Garry, where do you get that stuff?" said Nick Danter, in an
attempt to cheer up his chum. "You won't be licked until you're dead.
We'll find a way to get you and Bill and Rooster back on the gridiron
some way! Suffering cats!" he added angrily, "I wish old Allen were
further. How does he expect we're going to win against Thomaston and
the game only a few days off? Without you, we're sure to lose."
"Oh, no, you're not." With difficulty Garry raised himself from the
depths of gloom. "You're not beaten till you think you are, Nick. It's
your job and the job of the other fellows on the team to go in and win
despite the handicap. You see, Rooster and I are conceited enough to
call it a handicap," he added, with a sorry attempt at a grin.
"Can't be done, Garry! Can't be done!" declared Nick moodily. "Not at
such short notice, anyhow. You know we expect a hard fight against
Thomaston under any conditions. Their team is mighty strong. They've
lost hardly any of their old stars through graduation. And as far as
our team is concerned, with you and Rooster counted out, the boys are
in for an awful slump. I don't believe that anything Mr. Phillips can
do will pull them out of it."
"Just the same, if any one can, Mr. Phillips will!" exclaimed Garry,
brightening at mention of the English teacher. "There's one fine man!
He doesn't believe we did any of the things charged against us."
"Neither does any one else in the school, if the truth were told,"
asserted Ted. "I don't think Mr. Allen himself really believes it. He
has to keep discipline though, and in the face of the circumstantial
evidence against you he had to do something."
When the day came for the game with Thomaston, which was to take place
on the Lenox grounds, Garry, Rooster, and Bill thought at first that
they would not go at all. But the call of the gridiron was too strong
to be resisted. They could at least cheer for the old team, even if
they could not play on it.
Their entrance into the stands was attended with an ovation on the part
of their fellow students that warmed their hearts. Hands were thrust
out to grasp theirs and many were the words of sympathy spoken. Most of
the students were almost as sore as Garry himself at his banishment
from the game, and with him out they could see nothing but defeat for
Lenox.
Their gloomy anticipations were fulfilled to the uttermost, for that
afternoon Lenox went down to the worst defeat it had experienced since
it had been a member of the league.
With Garry gone, his former mates were like a ship without a rudder.
Mr. Phillips had done the best he could to strengthen the team. Pete
Maddern had been put in Rooster's place and Benny Knapp had taken
Garry's, while Rankin had been called on to fill Knapp's place in the
backfield. It was the best that could be done under the circumstances,
but it was not good enough to avert an overwhelming defeat.
For Benny got mixed in his signals, often with fatal results. The whole
team became confused, not knowing what to expect from their leader.
Thomaston took full advantage of the mistakes and made the game a
massacre.
Only once did Lenox score, when the Thomaston fullback fumbled and
Nick scooped up the ball and went over the line for a touchdown. But
Thomaston scored almost at will. They rode easily to victory while
Lenox was smothered at every turn.
Six times Thomaston battered its way through the line for touchdowns.
When they wearied of this, they resorted to the aerial game, while the
Lenox overhead defense collapsed. Four times Thomaston scored through
the air on two passes of fifty yards each, one of fifty-four and a
fourth of twenty-seven.
Under this fierce attack the entire Lenox team became like a mass of
huddled sheep. The game had become a joke. When at last the referee's
whistle sounded an end to the slaughter, Thomaston had triumphed by a
score of 63 to 6.
The Lenox rooters sat through it all, glum and dumbfounded, while the
Thomaston supporters chortled with glee. Lenox had taken a shameful
beating.
Sick at heart, Garry watched his chance, and when his comrades were not
looking slipped away by himself. He was in no mood for conversation. He
wanted to be alone in his misery until he could get a grip on himself.
To have to sit there and watch his team lose! To feel without conceit
that in ten minutes on the field he could have turned the tide of
battle! To know this, and yet to sit there in silent agony seeing the
team disgraced! It was more than he could bear.
Wandering along blindly, his head full of unhappy thoughts, Garry heard
himself suddenly accosted. The voice was a familiar one and, looking
up, Garry saw Cal Yates' car parked at the curb. Cal was grinning
at him amiably. "What's the matter that you can't recognize an old
friend," chirped Cal. "Come on, jump in and we'll go for a ride."
Garry hesitated, was about to refuse, then suddenly acquiesced.
He liked Cal Yates and hardly cared to offend him by refusing the
invitation. Then, too, it would be a change and might drive away some
of the gloom that enwrapped him.
As Garry put a leg over the car door and slumped down in the seat
beside him, Cal regarded him slyly out of the corner of his eye.
"Think I can guess the reason for your doleful dumps," Cal said with a
jerk of his head back toward the field. "I was at the game. Thomaston
certain walked all over you."
Garry nodded glumly.
"My hands were tied," he said. "Rooster and I had to sit there and
watch them get licked."
"Pretty tough!" murmured Cal sympathetically.
There was a moment of silence while the car purred rhythmically along
the road. Then Cal spoke suddenly and with a resolution not familiar to
him.
"See here," he blurted out. "I like you, and I've reason to be grateful
to you for what you did for my dad when he needed help. Besides, I
don't like to see a fellow framed."
Garry looked at him curiously.
Cal was silent again as he manipulated the car about a corner and swung
off on a road leading into the country. Here he slowed the car to an
ambling pace and turned half about to face Garry.
"Because that's what you've been," he said, continuing from the point
where he had left off. "Framed!"
"Don't I know it?" Garry spoke bitterly. "We fellows never had hip
flasks, never even thought of them until they were found in our desks.
If that isn't framing, what is?"
Cal pondered a moment.
"I don't like to mix in any one else's business," he said slowly.
"But--" He paused.
"If you know anything, spill it," urged Garry eagerly.
"I will," said Cal briskly. "I'll tell you when and where you were
framed and who did it!"