THE FELLOW WHO WOULDN’T YIELD.
Through the mail that night Roger received a letter from Jack Merwin,
captain and manager of the Clearport eleven, which he read ere leaving
the post office. The letter was as follows:
“MR. ROGER ELIOT,
”Capt. Oakdale Academy Football Team,
“Dear Sir:—
“Replying to yours of the 13th regarding the
scheduling of one or more games between Oakdale
and Clearport, would say that we have an
open date on next Saturday, the 29th, and will
play you here in Clearport if you care to come.
After the usual custom, we will, of course, defray
the expenses of the visiting team. I trust
you will inform me without delay whether or
not this proposal is acceptable to you.
“Yours truly,
“JOHN MERWIN, Capt. Clearport Eleven.”
With the letter still in his hand, Roger met Sam Rollins on the
postoffice steps. Hunk would have hurried on into the building, but
Eliot stopped him.
“Look here, Rollins,” he questioned. “I want to know why you failed to
come out for practice to-day?”
Hunk shrugged his thick shoulders. “Why, I had some work to do,” he
faltered.
“Did you, indeed? How long since you have become ambitious to work? You
know, according to your reputation, you never lift a hand to do any
labor if you can avoid it.”
“Ho!” grunted Rollins. “That’s all right. Sometimes a feller has to do
some things.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t coming out to the field? You should
have given me notice, and you could have done so without any trouble at
all.”
“I didn’t think of it,” lied Hunk.
“You know better than that, Rollins. At any rate, you should have
thought of it. You were told that our new coach would be on hand, and
you knew well enough that I wanted every man out at the field.”
“Was I the only one who didn’t come?” asked the fellow, with a leer.
The grim expression of Roger’s face did not change in the least. “I’m
talking to you about what _you_ did, and not speaking of the acts of
any one else. I shall say what I have to say directly to them, as I do
to you.”
“Well, what are you going to do about it if I don’t come out?” was
Hunk’s insolent question.
“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do, Rollins, and you’d better pay
close attention. You’re not such a valuable man to the team that any
one would think of chasing you up and coaxing you. Your place can be
filled, and it will be filled if you play any more such tricks.”
“Oh, perhaps you can fill the places of some other fellers.”
“Perhaps so; but, as I just remarked, I’m telling you what will happen
in your individual case. If you want to play on the academy eleven,
you’ll come out for practice regularly, or you’ll give a good and
sufficient excuse in case you can’t appear—and give it in advance, too.
If you’re not at the field to-morrow afternoon when practice begins
you’ll be dropped for good.”
“Say, you’re a regular autocrat, ain’t ye? You’re going to try to run
things your way with an iron hand, ain’t ye? Mebbe you’ll find out——”
“That’s enough. You’ve heard all I have to say. Think it over. If you
don’t come out to-morrow night it won’t be any great loss to the team.”
With which Eliot left Rollins there on the steps, muttering and
growling beneath his breath.
At the very next corner Roger saw a fellow who had been coming toward
him cross over suddenly to the opposite side of the street, which was
darker. He recognized the figure and movements of Fred Sage, the
quarter back, who had likewise absented himself without excuse or
explanation of any sort.
“Sage,” he called sharply, “I’m looking for you.”
The fellow paused, and then slowly recrossed the street toward the
determined captain of the eleven.
“That you, Roger?” he asked in pretended surprise. “I didn’t recognize
you.”
Eliot despised him for the prevarication and was tempted to give him
the same advice about lying that he had given Rollins. Instead of that,
however, he asked:
“Have you decided not to play football this season?”
“Why—why, no,” stammered Fred. “How’d you get that idea?”
“You weren’t at the field this afternoon, and I told you our coach
would be there, for which reason I desired every man to be on hand. You
are filling an important position on the team. Of course we have a
substitute who can take your place if you are injured in a game, but
that will make it necessary to shift the line-up. If you have any
thought of quitting, I want to know it now.”
Sage shifted his weight from one foot to the other and twisted his heel
into the ground. Twice he started to speak; twice he stopped; then he
suddenly blurted:
“You’ll have trouble finding substitutes for all the fellows who didn’t
come out to-day.”
“So that’s it,” said Roger. “I’m glad you didn’t make the same excuse
as Hunk Rollins—didn’t claim you had work to do. Sage, the academy
football team will not be broken up by the underhand work of any one,
nor do I propose to knuckle to the man who is seeking by such
contemptible methods to force my hand. Don’t pretend that you don’t
know what I mean, for you do. If I yielded in this case, any fellow who
had a grudge against another chap might try the same picayunish,
selfish, discipline-wrecking trick. A chap who is so unpatriotic that
he will quit his team because he had a personal grudge against some
fellow on it is of no real value to the team anyhow; and when he seeks
to lead others to follow his example he’s worse than a traitor. You
have lived in Oakdale long enough to know that I have influence and a
following, and I’ll tell you now that I’m not going to be whipped into
line by the fellow who is trying to force me to yield to him. No matter
how much the team is weakened by deserters, it will go ahead and play
football—it will do so even if we don’t win a game this season. I would
like to see you at the field for practice to-morrow afternoon, but
you’ll not be asked again to come out. Good night.”
Sage stood there looking after Eliot as the latter’s sturdy figure
melted into the darkness.
“By Jove!” he muttered. “Roger means it, and when he makes up his mind
in that fashion nothing in the world can change him. He has all of old
Urian Eliot’s stubbornness. Bern never can make him bend.”
Eliot contemplated seeking Berlin Barker next, but suddenly he decided
to go straight to Hayden himself. He arrived at the latter’s home just
as Bern was bidding Barker good night. Berlin looked a trifle startled
as the captain of the eleven appeared, but into Hayden’s eyes there
sprang a light of satisfaction; for he fancied Eliot had come to
temporize, possibly to plead.
“Good evening. Glad to see you, old fellow,” he said with pretended
friendliness. “Berlin and I have just been having a little chat. Won’t
you come up to my room?”
“Yes,” said Roger.
Once in Hayden’s room, the visitor did not beat about the bush in the
least. He declined to sit down. Facing the dark-eyed youth, who
regarded him expectantly, he spoke deliberately and with a grimness
that gave assurance of his unalterable resolution.
“Hayden, I can’t find words to express my contempt of the methods to
which you have resorted. I’ve something to say to you, and I hope
you’ll not interrupt me. You have succeeded in leading your friends and
certain weak-kneed fellows to follow your lead in failing to come out
for practice. There are four of you, all told. I doubt if there’s
another fellow in Oakdale who can be induced to do such a thing, and
I’m sure there can’t be more than one or two. I’m not asking anything
of you; play your cards to the limit. However, I’m going to tell you
precisely what will happen. When you have won all the followers
possible, there will still be enough fellows left to make up a team,
and that team will go ahead and play through the present season.
Doubtless you will weaken it, and the record may not be one to be proud
of; but your record will be still more shameful. I’m dead sure that the
majority of the fellows will back me up. You are looking to be chosen
captain of the team for next season. What chance do you think you will
stand if you persist in your dirty work? Yes, that’s what I call
it—dirty work. Why, you won’t even be a member of the team, and it
would be impossible to elect a man outside the team for captain next
year.”
By this time Hayden’s face was pallid with rage and his eyes glowing.
He trembled a little, and his voice shook as he retorted:
“You seem to fancy yourself a perfect czar, Roger. Have you got an idea
that you alone can throw me off the team? Answer me that.”
“If you leave the team it won’t be necessary to throw you off; you’ll
take yourself off by your own act.”
“You know why I refuse to play. You’re the one who is weakening the
team by insisting on retaining that miserable——”
“It won’t do you any good to slur Ben Stone, and I don’t think you’d
better call him names before me. Of course I wouldn’t put a hand on you
here in your own home, but——”
“Great Cæsar! you’re threatening me, Eliot.”
“Stone will remain on the team, Hayden; you may as well make up your
mind to that. If you haven’t manhood enough to come back and work for
the team, you’re not worthy to be on it. You’re going to find it a
losing fight, my boy; you may hurt me, but you’ll hurt yourself far
more. The poorer record the team makes without you and your friends,
the more you’ll be blamed when the season is ended. Think that over.
It’s all I have to say.”
Without even adding good night, Roger left the room, descended the
stairs and passed out of the house.
------------------------------------------------------------------------