A Hint from the Girls
There had been nothing rapid in Dick Prescott's elevation to the
captaincy of the eleven.
Back in the grammar school he had started his apprenticeship in
athletics. During his freshman year in High School he had kept
up his training. In his sophomore year he had trained hard for
and had won honors in the baseball nine. In his junior year,
after harder training that ever, he had performed a season's brilliant
work, playing left end in all the biggest games of the season.
So now, in his senior and last year at Gridley High School he
had come by degrees to the most envied of all possible positions
in school athletics.
The election to the football captaincy had not been sought by
Dick. In his junior year it had been offered to him, but he had
declined it, feeling that Wadleigh, both by training and judgement,
was better fitted to lead the eleven on the gridiron. But now,
having reached his senior year, Dick was by far the best leader
possible. Coach and football squad alike conceded it, and the
Alumni Association's Athletics Committee had approved.
Dick Prescott had grown in years since first we saw him, but not
in conceit. Like all who succeed in this world, he had a good
degree of positiveness in his make-up; but from this he left out
strong self-conceit. In all things, as in his school life, he
was prepared to sacrifice himself along whatever lines pointed
to the best good.
Dave Darrin, of all the chums, was nearly as well fitted as was
Prescott to lead, though not quite. So Dave, with Dick's own
kind of spirit, fell back willingly into second place. This year
Dave was second captain of the eleven, ready to lead to victory
if Dick should become incapacitated.
Beyond these, any of the four other chums were almost as well
qualified for leadership. Ability to lead was strong in all the
"partners" of Dick & Co.
While they were on the field that afternoon all of the six worked
as though football were the sole subject on earth that interested
them. That was the Gridley High School way, and it was the spirit
that Coach Morton always succeeded in putting into worthy young
men. Once back in dressing quarters, however, and under the shower
baths, the talk turned but little on football.
As soon as they had rubbed down and dressed Dick & Co. went outside
and started back to town---on foot. Time could be saved by taking
the street car, but Dick and his friends believed that a brief
walk, after the practice served to keep the kinks out of their
joints and muscles.
"What ailed old Drayne this afternoon, Dick?" asked Tom Reade.
"Why, he told me that he had hoped to play quarter this season."
"Regular quarter?" demanded Dan Dalzell, opening his eyes very
wide.
"That was what I gathered, from what he said," nodded Dick.
"Well, of all the nerve!" muttered Hazelton.
"The star position---for a fellow with a quitter's record!"
"I was obliged to say something of the sort" smiled Dick, "though
I tried to say it in a way that wouldn't hurt his feelings."
"You didn't succeed very well in salving his feelings, if his
looks gave any indication." laughed Greg Holmes quietly.
"Drayne went over to coach afterwards," added Dave Darrin. "Mr.
Morton didn't seem to give the fellow any more satisfaction than
you did, Dick."
"Who is to be quarter, anyway?" asked Harry Hazelton.
"Why, Dave is my first and last choice," Prescott answered frankly.
"But, personally, I'm not going to press him any too hard for
the post."
"Why not?" challenged Greg.
"Because everyone will say that I'm playing everything in the
interest of Dick & Co."
"Dave Darrin is head and shoulders above any other possibility
for quarter-back," insisted Greg, with so much conviction that
Darrin, with mock politeness, turned and lifted his cap in acknowledgment
of the compliment.
"Then coach and the Athletics Committee are intelligent enough
to find it out," answered the young football captain.
"That suits me," nodded Dave. "I want to play at quarter; yet,
if I can't make everyone concerned feel that I am the man for
the job, then I haven't made good to a sufficient extent to be
allowed to carry off the honors in a satchel."
"That's my idea, Darrin," answered Dick. "I believe you have made
good, and so good at that, that I'm going to dodge any charge
of favoritism, and leave it to others to see that you're forced
to take what you deserve."
"Of course I want to play this season, and I'm training hard to
be at my best," said Reade. "Yet when it's all over, and we've
won every game, good old Gridley style, I shall feel mighty happy."
"Yes," nodded Harry Hazelton, "and the same thing here."
"That's because you two are not only attending High School, but
also trying to blaze out your future path in life," laughed Dave.
"Well, the rest of you fellows had better be serious about your
careers in life," urged Tom. "It isn't every pair of fellows,
of course, who've been as fortunate as Harry and I."
"No; and all fellows can't be suited by the same chances, which
is a good thing," replied Prescott. "For my part, I wouldn't
find much of any cheer in the thought that I was going to be allowed
to carry a transit, a chain or a leveler's rod through life."
"Well, we don't expect to be working in the baggage department
of our profession forever," protested Harry Hazelton, with so
much warmth that Dave Darrin chuckled.
Tom and Harry had decided that civil or railroad engineering,
or both, perhaps, combined with some bridge building, offered
them their best chances of pleasant employment in life.
Mr. Appleton, a local civil engineer with whom the pair had talked
had offered to take them into his office for preliminary training.
because at the High School, Tom and Harry had already qualified
in the mathematical work necessary for a start.
No practicing civil engineer in these days feels that he has the
time or the inclination to take a beginner into his office and
teach him all of the work from the ground up. On the other hand,
a boy who has been grounded well in algebra, geometry and trigonometry
may then easily enter the office of a practicing civil engineer
and begin with the tools of the profession. Transit manipulation
and readings, the use of the plummet line, the level, compass,
rod, chain and staking work may all be learned thus and a knowledge
of map drawing imparted to a boy who has a natural talent for
the work.
It undoubtedly is better for the High School boy to go to a technical
school for his course in civil engineering; yet with a foundation
of mathematics and a sufficient amount of determination, the High
School boy may go direct to the engineer's office and pick up
his profession. Boys have done this, and have afterwards reached
honors in their profession.
So Tom and Harry had their future picked out, as they saw it.
As soon as they had learned enough of the rudiments, both were
resolved to go out to the far West, and there to pick up more,
much more, right in the camps of engineers engaged in surveying
and laying railroads.
"You fellows can talk about us going to work in the baggage department
of our profession," pursued Tom Meade, a slight flush on his manly
face. "But, Dick, you and Dave are in the dream department, for
you fellows have only a hazy notion that---perhaps---you may be
able to work your way into the government academies at West Point
and Annapolis. As for Greg and Dan, they don't appear to have
even a dream of what they hope to do in future."
"You fellows haven't been spreading the news that Dave and I want
to go to Annapolis and West Point, have you!" asked Dick seriously.
"Now, what do you take us for?" protested Tom indignantly "Don't
we understand well enough that you're both trying to keep it close
secret?"
As the young men turned into Main Street the merry laughter of
a group of girls came to their ears.
Four of the High School girls of the senior class had stopped
to chat for a moment.
Laura Bentley and Belle Meade were there, and both turned quickly
to note Dick and Dave. The other girls in the group were Faith
Kendall and Jessie Vance.
"Here comes the captain who is going to spoil all of Gridley a
chances this year," laughed Miss Vance.
"Hush, Jess," reproved Belle, while Laura looked much annoyed.
I see you have a wholly just appreciation of my merits, Miss Jessie,"
smiled Dick, as the boys raised their hats.
"Oh, what I said is nothing but the silly talk of him Dra-----"
began Jessie lightly, but stopped when she again found herself
under the reproving glances of Laura and Belle.
Dick glanced at one of the girls in turn, his glance beginning
to show curiosity.
Laura bit her lip; Belle locked highly indignant.
Prescott opened his month as though to ask a question, them closed
his lips.
"I guess you might as well tell them, Laura," hinted Faith Kendall.
"Oh, nonsense." retorted Miss Bentley, flushing. "It's nothing
at all, especially coming from such a source."
"Then some one has been giving me the roasting that I plainly
deserve?" laughed Captain Prescott.
"It's all foolish talk, and I'm sorry the girls couldn't hold
their tongues," cried Laura impatiently.
"Then I won't ask you what it was," suggested Dick, "since you
don't like to tell me voluntarily."
"You might as well, Laura," urged Faith.
"It's that Phin-----" began Jessie.
"Do be quiet, Jess," urged Belle.
"Why," explained Laura Bentley, "Phin Drayne just passed us, and
stopped to chat when Jessie spoke to him-----"
"I didn't," objected Miss Vance indignantly. "I only said good
afternoon, and---"
"I asked Drayne if he had been out to the field for practice,"
continued Laura. "He grunted, and said he'd been out to see how
badly things were going."
"Then, of course, Laura flared up and asked what he meant by such
talk," broke in the irrepressible Jessie. "Then---ouch!"
For Belle had slyly pinched the talkative one's arm.
"Mr. Drayne had a great string to offer us," resumed Laura. "He
said football affairs had never been in as bad shape before, and
he predicted that the team would go to pieces in all the strong
games this year."
"We have a rule of unswerving loyalty in the history of our eleven,"
said Prescott, smiling, though a grim light lurked in his eyes.
"I guess Phin was merely practicing some of that loyalty."
"None of us care what Drayne thinks, anyway," broke in Dave Darrin
contemptuously. "He wants to play as a regular, and he's slated
only as a possible sub. So I suppose he simply can't see how
the eleven is to win without him. But, making allowances for
human nature, I don't believe we need to roast him for his grouch."
"I didn't think his talk was worth paying any attention to," added
Laura. "I wouldn't have said anything about it, if it hadn't
leaked out."
Jessie took this rebuke to herself, and flushed, as she rattled
on:
"I guess it was no more than mere 'sorehead' talk on Phin Drayne's
part, anyway. Mr. Drayne said he had saved a good deal of his
pocket money, lately, and that he was going to win more money
by betting on Gridley's more classy opponents this season."
"There's a fine and loyal High School fellow for you!" muttered
Greg.
"Suppose we all change the subject," proposed Dick good-humoredly.
Two or three minutes later Dick & Co. again lifted their caps,
then continued on their way.
"Dick," whispered Dave, "on the whole, I'm glad that was repeated
to us."
"Why?"
"It ought to put us on our guard?"
"Guard? Against whom?"
"I should say against Phin Drayne."
"But he's merely offering to bet that we can't win our biggest
games this year," smiled Prescott. "That doesn't prove that we
can't win, does it?"
"Oh, of course not."
"Any fellow that will lower himself enough to make wagers on sporting
events shows too little judgment to be entitled to have any spending
money," pursued Prescott. "But, if Drayne has money, and is going
to bet, he won't be entitled to any sympathy when he loses, will
he?"
"Humph!" grunted Dave. "I'd like to have this matter followed
up. Any fellow who is betting against us ought not to be allowed
to play at all."
"Oh, it was just the talk of a silly, disappointed fellow," argued
Dick. "I suppose a boy is a good deal like a man, always. There
are some men who imagine that it lends importance to themselves
when they talk loudly and offer to wager money. I'm not going
to offer any bets, Dave, but I feel pretty certain that Drayne
is just talking for effect."
"His offering to bet against his own crowd would be enough to
justify you in dropping Drayne from the squad altogether," hinted
Greg Holmes.
"Yes, of course," admitted Dick. "But we had enough of football
soreheads last year. Now, wouldn't it make us look like soreheads
if we took any malicious delight in dropping Drayne from the squad
just because he has been blowing off some steam?"
"But I wouldn't trust him on the job," snapped Dan Dalzell. "I
believe Phin Drayne would sell out any crowd for sheer spite."
"Even his country?" asked Dick quietly.
And there the matter dropped, for the time. Had Dick & Co. and
some other High School fellows but known it, however, Drayne
would have borne close watching.