THE GREAT FOOTBALL GAME
It is not my intention to give all the particulars of that game of
football between Brill and Roxley, for the reason that I have many
other things to tell about. Yet I feel that I must tell something of
that great second half, which nobody who saw it will ever forget.
In the first half Roxley had the kick-off, and they played such a
fierce whirlwind game that before the leather had been on the gridiron
eight minutes they scored a touchdown. Then they made another
touchdown, and just before the whistle blew for the end of the first
half one of their players kicked a goal from the field.
And Brill scored nothing.
More than this, the playing was so rough that two of the Brill eleven
and one from Roxley had to retire from the field.
Of course the visitors went wild with joy, and shouted themselves
hoarse. They waved their colors, swung their rattles, and tooted
their horns for fully five minutes, while the silence among the
Brill contingent was so thick it could be "cut with a knife," as Sam
afterward expressed it.
"It's all over," murmured Stanley with a glum look on his face. "Their
eleven this year are too heavy for us."
"We can't meet them in mass play, that's certain," was Dick's comment.
"If we are going to gain anything at all it must be by open work."
"Tom Rover can take Felton's place," came the order from the head of
the team, and Tom at once threw off the blanket he had been using and
got into practice with another new man and some others.
Dick felt sore, physically and mentally. He had been roughly used by
two of the Roxley players, and had made a fumble at a critical moment.
And all during that heartrending first half Dora had not noticed him
at all!
The coach did some plain talking to the players while in the
dressing-room, and told them of where he thought Roxley might be
weak--at the left end.
"Don't mass unless you absolutely have to," were his words of caution.
"They have the weight, but I don't think they have the wind. Keep them
on the jump. I think that is your only chance."
When the whistle blew for the second half the Brill eleven came out on
the gridiron with a "do or die" look on their faces.
"Now pile it into 'em!" cried the coach. "Don't give 'em time to think
about it!"
Whether it was this caution, or the very desperateness of the case,
it would be hard to say, but true it is that Brill went at their
opponents "hammer and tongs" from the very start. They avoided all
wedge work and confined themselves as much as possible to open
playing. More than this, they used a little trick Dick had once played
when on the eleven at Putnam Hall. The ball was passed from right to
left, then to center, and then to left again, and then carried around
the end for a gain of twenty-five yards. Then it was picked up again,
turned back and to the left once more, and forced around the end for
twenty yards more.
"That's the way to do it!" yelled several of the Brill supporters.
"Over with it, while you've got the chance!"
The ball was forced back by sheer weight of Roxley, but only for five
yards. Then the Brill quarter-back got it, sent it over to Toms and in
a twinkling Tom "nursed" it to where he wanted it and kicked a goal
from the field.
"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!"
"That's the way to do it!"
"Now, then, for another!"
"By the great Julius Caesar!" cried Sam. "Isn't that fine?"
"Oh, it was grand!" exclaimed Nellie, and she waved her banner
directly at Tom, and he waved his hand in return. Just then Nellie
felt as if she could go and hug him.
"It certainly was fine," said Grace, "but it's only one goal, and they
have such a big score," she pouted.
"Never mind. We won't be whitewashed, anyway."
"It's a pity they didn't have Tom in the first half," said Dora.
Although her heart was strangely sore, she nevertheless felt proud of
what Tom had accomplished.
Again the two elevens went at it, and now Roxley tried again to force
the center by a rush. But to their surprise Brill shifted to the
left--that one weak spot--and got the ball on a fumble by the Roxley
half-back. There was more quick action by four of the Brill players,
and when the scrimmage came to an end the leather was found just three
yards from the Roxley goal line.
And then came that awful struggle, where muscle met muscle in a strain
that was truly terrific. Roxley was heavier, but its wind was going
fast. Brill held at first, then went ahead--an inch--a foot--a yard.
"Hold 'em! Hold 'em!" was the Roxley cry. But it was not to be. The
yard became two, and then the leather went over with a rush.
"A touchdown! A touchdown for Brill!"
"Now make it a goal!" was the cry, and a goal it became, the Brill
quarter-back doing the kicking.
From that moment on the battle waged with a fury seldom seen on any
gridiron. Brill, from almost certain defeat, commenced to scent a
victory, and went into the play regardless of physical consequences.
Tom had his thumb wrenched and Dick had his ankle skinned, but neither
gave heed to the hurts. Indeed, they never noticed them until the game
was at an end.
And then came Dick's hour of triumph. How he got the ball from the
burly Roxley right guard nobody could exactly tell afterward but get
the ball he did, and rounded two rival players before they knew what
was up. Then down the field he sped, with his enemies yelling like
demons behind him, and his friends on the benches encouraging him to
go on. He saw nothing and heard nothing until on the grandstand he
perceived a slender girlish form arise, wave a banner, and fairly
scream:
"Dick! Dick! Run! run! run!"
"It's Dora," he thought. "Dora sees me! She wants me to win!"
It was the last bit of inspiration he needed, and as a Roxley
full-back came thundering up to him he threw the fellow headlong. Then
straight as an arrow from a bow he rushed for the goal line, crossed
it, and sank limply down in front of the grandstand.
"Hurrah for Dick Rover!"
"Say, wasn't that a dandy run?"
"Those brothers can certainly play!"
"It's Brill's game now! Roxley is going to pieces!"
Amid a great din the leather was taken down into the field and the
goal was kicked.
"Want to get out of the game?" Dick was asked as he came down,
breathing heavily.
"No, not unless I'm put out," was the gritty answer.
"You'll not be put out. That was the finest run ever made on this
field."
What had been said about Roxley going to pieces was, in part, true.
Several shifts were made in the players, but this did not aid the
eleven. With twelve minutes more to play, Brill kept up its winning
streak, and secured another touchdown and goal and then a safety. When
the whistle finally blew the ball was well in Roxley's territory.
"Brill wins!"
"Say, wasn't that a great game? All Roxley the first half and all
Brill the second."
"Talk about a team pulling itself together! I never saw anything like
what Brill did in the second half."
"Nor I."
"Those two Rover boys are winders."
So the talk ran on. Of course, Roxley was keenly disappointed, but it
tried not to show it, and sang songs and cheered its opponents. And
Brill cheered the enemy, as is the custom.
Tom and Dick were surrounded by a host of friends, and had to shake
hands over and over again, and had to have their hurts washed and
bound up. Both wanted to get to where Sam and the girls had been left,
but this was impossible for quite a while, and then, much to their
surprise, they found their brother and the others had gone, and Minnie
Sanderson had departed also.
"Wonder where they went to?" questioned Tom. "I told Sam we'd be along
as soon as possible."
To this Dick did not answer. He was thinking deeply. Was Dora still
angry, in spite of how she had cheered him?
"There they are!" cried Tom a few minutes later, as he and Dick walked
toward the river. He had seen Nellie and Grace on a bench in the sun,
surrounded by a number of other visitors. He hurried up to them,
his brother following more slowly. "Where are Dora and Sam?" he
questioned, looking around.
"Dora asked to go back to the seminary," answered Nellie, and looked
sharply at Dick.
"To the seminary?" repeated Tom in wonder. "Why, how's that?"
"She said she had a--headache."
"Is that so? That's too bad! Why didn't she wait for Dick to take her
over?"
"I--I don't know, Tom." Nellie lowered her voice, so Dick might not
hear. "Something is wrong between them. I don't know what it is."
"Wrong? Why, how can that be? I didn't hear of anything," Tom now
spoke in a whisper.
"Well, I am sure something is wrong. They acted queer when Dick came
to the grandstand before the game commenced. Dora's heart was not in
the game at all. She was ready to go before it was over."
"By the way, Tom, who was that other girl?" asked Grace pointedly.
"What other girl?"
"The girl Dick was talking to here on the grandstand."
"Oh, that was the farmer's daughter we helped when we first came to
Ashton. Her name is Minnie Sanderson. We told you about her."
"She seems to think a good deal of Dick," was Nellie's comment.
"Why, you don't mean--" Tom looked around, expecting to see Dick close
by. "Hello! Where did he go?" he cried.
"Dick is walking back to the college," said Grace.
"Hi, Dick!" called out Tom to his brother. "Where are you going?"
"Up to my room," answered Dick.
"Yes, but see here--"
"Can't see now. I'll see you later," answered Dick. He waved his cap
and bowed. "Good-by, Nellie! Good-by, Grace!" And then he turned on
his heel and continued on his way to the dormitory building.
"Well, if this doesn't beat the Chinese!" murmured Tom.
"He must be very angry over something," murmured Nellie.
"I think he might have come and shook hands when he said good-by,"
said Grace with a pout.
"I think so myself," answered Tom. "Say, do you think it's that girl?"
he went on, in his usual blunt fashion.
"It must be," answered Nellie, who was equally frank on all occasions.
"I don't know what else it could be."
"But Dick hasn't done anything. I am sure of it. Why, I don't think he
has seen her since we stopped at her home that time."
"Well, he seemed very attentive to her here in the stand," said Grace,
"and if you'll remember, he didn't meet us when we arrived. I am sure
Dora looked for him."
Tom gave a long sigh and shrugged his shoulders.
"This takes the edge off the victory," he murmured. "I thought the six
of us would have a jolly time for the rest of the day."
"It certainly is too bad," answered Nellie. "But I don't think Dora is
to blame."
"Oh, of course a girl will stick up for another girl," retorted Tom,
bound to say something in his brother's defense.
"Tom Rover!" cried Nellie, and then she showed that she was
displeased.
It was quite a while before Sam came back from seeing Dora to the
seminary. He, too, thought Dora was more to blame than Dick, and this
did not altogether please Grace. As a consequence there was a coldness
all around, and the rest of the afternoon dragged most woefully. Dick
did not return, and at last Sam and Tom saw the Laning girls back to
their school.
"A pretty mess of fish!" muttered Sam on returning to Brill.
"Yes; and where is it going to end?" asked Tom dolefully. It was the
first time there had been such cold feelings all around.