CHAPTER VII

GERALD MAPS A CAMPAIGN

Two afternoons later Kendall ran across Charles Cotton on the football

field. Cotton was still struggling along with the awkward squad,

and when Kendall, chasing a pigskin that had gone over his head,

encountered him he was on his way to the bench.

“Sorry I wasn’t at home Sunday when you called,” said Kendall. “I hope

you’ll try again.”

“Oh, it didn’t matter,” Cotton replied. “I didn’t have anything to do,

and just thought I’d drop in for a minute.”

“Glad you did. Hope I’ll be there next time. How are you getting on?”

“Pretty fair.”

Kendall nodded and went his way, while Cotton, standing where he was,

watched the other boy pick up the ball and hurl it cleverly back across

the field. “Thinks he’s a smart guy,” he muttered with a curl of his

lip. “Some day I’ll tell him what I think of him and his patronizing

ways. Not till I get what I want out of him, though.”

The first game of the season, that with Greenburg High School, was

only four days away, and this afternoon the scrimmage was longer than

heretofore. For the first time the school was able to get an idea of

how the First Team or Varsity would be made up. Cousins played left

end that afternoon; Plant, left tackle; Fales, left guard; Girard,

center; McKesson, right guard; Stark, right tackle; Adler, right end;

Simms, quarter; Crandall, left half; Fayette, right half, and Marion,

full-back. Of course, McKesson at guard was only temporary, for that

was Captain Merriwell’s position; and a good many looked for a change

at right end before the season was much older. But it was generally

agreed that the First Team, as made up this afternoon, would, with one

or two changes and barring accidents and unforeseen circumstances, play

the season through. A Second Team, captained by Jim Hough, was also

formed, and it was this Second Team that went up against the First for

three twelve-minute periods and was badly beaten.

The first cut came on Wednesday and some twenty-odd fellows left the

squad and swallowed their disappointment. The First Team retained

thirty-six players for the present, and the Second Team twenty-three.

Charles Cotton survived the weeding-out process and remained among the

First Team substitutes. He was trying for end. Kendall was a little

disappointed at finding himself second choice, but was comforted with

the knowledge that he was certain of getting into a full share of the

games since he was by far the best goal kicker in the squad. Holmes,

who since the beginning of practice had been pushing Albert Simms

hard for the quarter position, was more disappointed than Kendall. It

was his last year, and he had been after the place ever since he had

entered Yardley.

On Thursday the Second surprised themselves and everyone else by

rushing the First Team off its feet in two periods and finally winning

the practice game by 10 to 9, scoring two touchdowns and missing

the goal in each case. The First Team got a touchdown, and Kendall,

called on from the side-line, kicked the goal. Later, in the final

period, having substituted Crandall, he added another three points by

a goal from the field. But that wasn’t enough to beat the Second, and

Hugh’s charges gamboled off highly pleased with themselves. There was

no practice on Friday, although the players listened to a half-hour

lecture in the gymnasium and afterward walked through a few simple

plays.

Greenburg High School was not a formidable opponent, and the contest

on Saturday was not much more than a glorified practice game. The

school turned out to a fellow and filled the grand stand and nibbled

peanuts and applauded every opportunity. Merriwell played through the

first two periods and then gave way to McKesson. In the third period

Yardley presented an almost entirely new line-up. Steger went in for

Plant, Jackson for Fales, Best for Girard, Adler for Metz, Holmes for

Simms, Kendall for Fayette, and Brinspool for Marion. Greenburg also

seized the opportunity to try out her new material, and the latter

part of the game was something of a comedy of errors. Yardley already

had a score of 22 to 0, and Holmes received instructions to score by

straight football only. That, however, proved easier to say than to do.

Greenburg, even with a substitute back-field and a rather inexperienced

line, was quick and heady and stopped the Yardley attack for short

gains time after time. The third period ended without a score for

either side.

Up on the grand stand, with a bag of peanuts between them, Gerald and

Harry sat in the warm sunlight and viewed the contest with mild and

critical interest.

“More changes,” murmured Harry as the fourth period was about to

begin. “Best is coming off and Lin Johnson is going in. And there goes

Folsom to take Holmes’s place. Say, wouldn’t you hate to be a football

coach, Gerald?”

“Why?”

“Oh, think of having to lick a bunch like that into shape every year.

Gee, I’d get so discouraged I’d want to quit sometimes!”

“But you mustn’t judge a team by the first game it plays,” answered

Gerald. “Wait a month and then have a look.”

“I know. Somebody’s hurt. There goes Andy with the water pail. Isn’t

it funny that as long as we’ve been playing football, Gerald, nobody’s

ever thought to carry water on to the field in anything but a pail?”

“What would they carry it in? A tumbler?”

“No, but you can’t run with a pail of water without splashing most of

it out. Look at that! Why not use a can or something with a lid? Who is

that chap? Whoever he is, they’re taking him out. It’s Adler, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know him. Somebody’s given him a nasty looking eye, though.”

“I should say so! Yes, that’s Adler. He’s after Cousins’s place. Who’s

the funny looking guy Payson’s sending in?”

“Oh, his name is Cotton. He doesn’t look much as though he could play

end, does he?”

“Cotton?” Harry watched the substitute run on to the field. “Who is he?”

“I don’t know. I met him a week or so ago. He’s rooming with The Duke

in Clarke. He’s new this Fall.”

“Funny,” muttered Harry, “but I seem to know that chap. Name sounds

familiar, too. Cotton ... Cotton....”

“He’s a protégé of Kendall’s,” said Gerald. “Kendall has taken pity on

him because he’s new and doesn’t know many fellows. He asked him around

and he came last Sunday while we were away. Left his visiting card!

What do you know about that for style?”

“Well, whoever he is, he can’t play end,” said Harry in disgust. “That

Greenburg tackle is making him look like a canceled stamp――――”

Harry stopped so abruptly that Gerald turned to regard him curiously.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

Harry shook his head. He was staring across the field at Cotton with a

frown of perplexity on his face. “Nothing,” he answered finally. “Only

that fellow bothers me. I’m almost certain I’ve seen him somewhere

before.”

“You’ve probably seen him in class or around school,” said Gerald.

“That’s not quite impossible, you know.”

But Harry again shook his head. “If I’d seen him here before I’d

remember it. Almost seems as if I’d met him. Where does he come from?”

“I don’t know. Hold on, though; seems to me The Duke said he came from

Maryland.”

“Well, it wasn’t there, for I’ve never been in Maryland, except to go

through it on a train. There goes Kendall with the ball. Good work,

Burtis! That fellow is certainly a wonder at keeping his feet, Gerald!”

“And he’s pretty good at keeping his head, too,” replied Gerald with a

smile.

“Funny idea you taking him in with you, though,” said Harry. “I like

him first rate, but――――”

“But what?” asked Gerald.

“Oh, I don’t know. He seems hardly your style. That’s all.”

Gerald was silent a moment, watching the efforts of Yardley to carry

the pigskin over the remaining four white lines intervening between it

and the Greenburg goal. At last, “I’ll tell you, Harry,” he said, “I’ve

always felt a sort of interest in Kendall ever since he butted into the

room one night with the calm announcement to Dan that he’d like to

join the football team. Towne put him up to it, you know.”

“I hear Towne isn’t coming back this year,” interpolated Harry.

“You can’t make me feel bad that way,” replied Gerald. “Well, I

really meant to cultivate Kendall after that, but I got busy with the

cross-country work and one thing and another and didn’t see much of

him. Ned Tooker sort of took him up, though, and he seemed in pretty

good hands. Then came that affair of the field goal and the school

made a hero of him, or would have had he let them. Dan was interested

in Kendall, too, and we got him over to the room once or twice, but he

seemed afraid of coming when he wasn’t wanted, and we sort of gave him

up after awhile.

“But Dan was a great believer in Kendall. Said he was the most

‘natural’ football player he had ever seen. And he also said”――Gerald

lowered his voice――“that unless something happened, like Kendall

getting hurt or leaving school, he would be captain before he got

through here.”

Harry whistled softly but expressively.

“And you know Dan doesn’t make mistakes,” added Gerald, his fondness

for his friend sounding in his voice.

“Looks as if he’d made one this time, though, doesn’t it?” asked Harry

with a smile.

“Why?”

“Why? Well, look.” Harry nodded to where Kendall was racing up the

field after a punt. “He’s only first sub now and next year is his last,

isn’t it?”

“Yes. And that’s why we’ve got to get busy.”

“Eh? Who? Get busy doing what?”

“Proving that Dan wasn’t mistaken,” replied Gerald quietly. “If

Kendall’s going to have the captaincy before he leaves here then next

year’s his last chance. And that means that he’s got to win it this

Fall.”

“Yes, but what did you mean when you said we’d got to get busy?”

“Just that,” answered Gerald with a smile. “Dan said Kendall would be

captain. He expects him to be and wants him to be. Well, you know I’m

pretty fond of old Dan, and so it’s up to me to see that things happen

the way he wants them to.”

“But what the dickens can you do?” gasped Harry.

“I don’t quite know yet. But you can see what I have done. I’ve brought

Kendall over to my room where he will meet a lot of fellows he ought

to know. I want him to get close to the other fellows on the team,

for one thing, for it’s those fellows who will elect the captain next

month. Of course, it’s up to him to make good on the gridiron, and I

think he will. He will if I can make him, anyway!”

“But――but, look here, Gerald――that――that’s rank politics!”

“No, it isn’t,” replied Gerald, shaking his head gently. “It’s

politics, but it isn’t rank. It amounts to this, Harry: Kendall hasn’t

the push to get himself elected captain if left to his own efforts. But

there’s no reason why he shouldn’t be captain if he’s wanted――――”

“But he won’t be!”

“Not if he’s left to himself, but I intend to see that he is wanted.

What I am conducting is a quiet campaign in the interests of Kendall

Burtis. If he does his part you’ll find when it comes time to elect a

captain for next year that they’ll be crying for Kendall!”

Harry viewed the other in rapt and admiring awe for a moment. Then,

doubtfully, “But it doesn’t seem to me that he’s got it in him to be a

good captain, Gerald. He――he isn’t a leader. I don’t say he can’t play

football, for I think he can, although even that’s got to be proved a

bit more, hasn’t it? But――well, it takes certain qualities to be a good

captain.”

“What are they?”

“Eh? Oh, I don’t know. Pluck, of course, and brains and――and executive

ability――――”

“Whatever that is,” laughed Gerald. “Well, you can’t say Kendall hasn’t

pluck after the way he went overboard the other day without being able

to swim a stroke. And as for brains, well, you think a minute.”

Harry nodded. “Yes, he’s got a good thinker, I guess.”

“And he can be wonderfully cool in an emergency,” continued Gerald.

“How do you know that?”

“By the way he stepped out on the field last year at the eleventh hour,

grabbed off the grand stand in a pair of long trousers and hustled

into a sweater, and stood there and kicked that goal with the whole

Broadwood team trying to get through and kill him.”

“Y-yes, but――――”

“As for the other thing, what you call executive ability and what the

rest of us, who haven’t your visiting acquaintance with fine English,

call leadership, why, no, he hasn’t displayed any of that yet. He

hasn’t had a chance, I guess. That’s something we’ll have to develop in

him, or, at least, bring out. And he’s discouragingly shy. He will have

to get over some of that. I don’t expect to make him popular in the

general meaning of the word. That isn’t necessary. I don’t think you

can call Charlie Merriwell a very popular chap.”

“He isn’t, and it remains to be seen what sort of a captain he will

make. Simms ought to have had it.”

“Yes, Simms is popular, but he didn’t get the captaincy. I know of at

least two fellows on the team who don’t really like Merriwell and who

cast their votes for him because they knew he could play football and

believed he’d make a good captain and because they respected him. See?

Well, I mean to have Kendall prove that he can play football, show that

he can lead, and win the respect of the fellows.”

“Gee, you’ve got a job! Sounds like a confidence game to me,

too, Gerald. Hanged if you aren’t deliberately setting to work

to――to――what’s that word?――to foist a captain on the school that they

don’t even know!”

“But they will know him before the time comes,” replied Gerald

confidently. “As for foisting”――he shrugged his shoulders――“it’s a fine

old word, Harry, but it’s in wrong. Dan has chosen Kendall for next

year’s captain; Dan knows; Kendall shall be captain. There it is in a

nutshell!”

“You’ve certainly got plenty of cheek,” laughed Harry. “And you can bet

I’ll be watching things with rapt attention, Gerald. I wish you luck,

and Kendall, too, but I’m very much afraid you’ll be disappointed.”

“Perhaps. If we are we’ll stand it. There’s one thing you seem to miss,

though. You talk about standing by and watching things. I have tried to

convey the idea that you were in on the campaign, Harry.”

“Me! What the dickens can I do?”

“I don’t know yet. I think you can be useful, however. Perhaps I’ll

make you head of the publicity department. Anyhow, I want your help. If

I hadn’t I wouldn’t have told you all this. Because it’s got to be kept

a secret from everyone, Harry, and especially Kendall.”

“What? Isn’t he to know?”

“Not a word of it!”

“Then I don’t see how you can expect him to――to do things, to get next

to the fellows, to――――”

“Don’t you see that if we told him he’d back out right now? He hasn’t

any more idea of getting the captaincy that he has of――of flying. And

even if he agreed to it he’d be so self-conscious all the time that

he’d make a horrible mess of it. No, you and I, and maybe another chap

before we’re through, must keep this to ourselves. No one must even

guess that we’re booming Kendall.”

“Sounds difficult,” Harry objected.

“Not very. There’s no reason why anyone should suspect that we are

doing it, is there? Just now Kendall Burtis is about the last fellow

anyone would think of as next year’s captain, isn’t he?”

“He certainly is,” agreed Harry, with conviction.

“Then why should anyone suspect that we’re pushing him for it?

Diplomacy, Harry, diplomacy! Also secrecy!”

“Two orders of each,” said Harry. “Well, it sounds sort of crazy to me,

but I’ll take a chance with you. And now, as the practice has been over

for some five minutes and as we’re about the only fellows in sight, I’d

like to move along. Even politicians have to eat, Gerald.”

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