Dick Puts "A Better Man" in His Place
Of course Dick heard no more from the Draynes. He didn't expect
that he would.
Phin, however, was noticed no more on the streets of the little
city. Then, in some way, it leaked out that his father had sent
him to a military boarding school where the discipline was credited
with being very rigid.
"I guess papa has found that his little boy was none too much
of an angel," laughed Dave Darrin when discussing the news with
his chums.
The first four games of the season went off successfully for Gridley,
though all were hard battles in which only fine leadership and
splendid team work by all saved the day.
Two of these games had been played on the home grounds, two away
from home. The fifth game of the season was scheduled to be played
on the home grounds. The opponent for this game was to be Hallam
Heights High School. The Hallam boys were a somewhat aristocratic
lot, but not snobbish, and the Gridley young men looked forward
to an exciting and pleasant game. It was the first game ever
played between Gridley and Hallam Heights. Coach Morton talked
about the strangers one rainy afternoon in the gymnasium.
"I believe you're going to find yourselves up against a hard
proposition," declared coach slowly "These young men attend a High
School where no expense is spared. Some of the wealthy men of the
town engage the physical director, who is one of the best men in
his class. Speight, who was at college with me, is engaged in
addition as the football coach. I remember Speight as one of the
cleverest and most dangerous men we had at college. He could think
up a whole lot of new field tricks overnight. Then again, most of
the Hallam Heights boys are young fellows who go away for athletic
summers. That is, they are young fellows who do a lot of boating,
yachting, riding, tennis, track work, and all the rest of it.
They are young fellows who glory in being in training all the
year around. Speight writes me that he thinks he has the finest,
strongest and most alert boys in the United States."
"We'll whip them, just the same," announced Dick coolly.
"Gridley will, if anyone can---I know that," agreed Mr. Morton.
"You've won all four games that you've played this season. Hallam
Heights has played five games and won them all. The Hallam youngsters
are out to capture the record that Gridley has held for some time
that of capturing all the games of the season."
"Bring 'em on!" begged Darrin. "I wish we had 'em here to play
just as soon as the rain lets up."
"Don't make the mistake of thinking that, because the Hallam boys
have rich fathers, they're dudes, who can't play on wet ground,"
laughed Mr. Morton.
"If Hallam sends forth such terrors," grinned Dick, rising from
the bench on which he had been sitting, "then we must get in trim
for 'em. Come on, fellows; some of the light speedy exercises.
I'll work you up to all the speed you can take care of, this
afternoon."
For the next ten minutes Dick was as good as his word. Then,
after a brief breathing spell, Prescott ordered his men to the
running track in the gallery.
"Three laps at full speed, with a two-minute jog between each
speed burst, and a minute of breathing between each kind of running,"
called out Dick.
Then, after he had seen the fellows started, he turned to the
coach.
"If I never learned anything else from you, Mr. Morton, I think
I've wholly absorbed the idea that no man is in condition unless
he can run well; and that nothing will make for condition like
judicious running."
"As to what you've learned from me, Captain Prescott," replied
the coach, "I fully believe that you've learned all that I have
to teach. I wouldn't be afraid to go away on a vacation and leave
the team in your hands."
"Him!" smiled Dick. "Without you to back me up, Mr. Morton, I'm
afraid some of the fellows might kick over the traces."
"They wouldn't kick over but once," laughed the coach. "The first
time any fellow did that you'd drop him from the team. And the
fellows know it. I haven't noticed the young men attempting to
frisk you any."
"One did."
"I know whom you mean," replied the submaster, his brow clouding.
"But he got out of the team, didn't he?"
"Yes; but I didn't put him out."
"You would have put him off the team if it had been left for you
to do it."
As soon as he thought the squad had had enough exercise to keep
them in tone, Dick dismissed them.
"But every one of you do his level best to keep in condition all
the time until we get through with Hallam Heights," urged the
young captain. "That applies, too, not only to team members,
but to every man in the squad. If the Hallam fellows are swift
and terrific, we can't tell on whom we may have to pounce for
substitutes."
This was to be a mid-week game, taking place Wednesday afternoon.
Wednesday morning word reached school that Hudson, who was down
to play right guard, and Dan Dalzell, right end, were both at
home in bed, threatened with pneumonia. In each case the doctor
was hopeful that the attack would be averted, but that didn't
help out the afternoon's game any.
"Two of our prize men out," muttered Dick anxiously to Dave at
recess.
"And it's claimed that misfortunes always travel by threes," returned
Darrin, half mournfully.
"Don't!" shivered Prescott. "Let us off with two misfortunes."
Afternoon came along, somewhat raw and lowering. Rain might prevent
the game. Less than three quarters of the people who bought seats
in advance appeared at the grounds. The sale of spot seats was
not as brisk by half as it would have been on a pleasanter day.
But the Hallam Heights boys came along early, bounding and full
of fun and dash.
They were a fine-looking lot of boys. The Gridley youngsters
took to their opponents instantly.
"I wonder what's keeping Dick?" muttered Dave Darrin, half anxiously,
in dressing quarters.
"Anyway, we won't worry about him until we have to," nodded Mr.
Morton. "Our young captain is about the promptest man, as a rule,
in the whole squad."
"That's just why I am uneasy," grunted Dave.
Hardly had he spoken when Dick Prescott came in---but limping
slightly!
And what a rueful countenance the young captain of the team
displayed!
"Suffering Ebenezer, man, but what has happened?" gasped Dave.
All the other Gridley youngsters stopped half way in their togging
to listen for the reply.
"Nothing much," grunted Dick. "Yet it came near to being too
much. A man bumped me, as I was getting on the car, and drove
me against the iron dasher. It was all an accident, due to the
man's clumsiness. But it barked my knee a good bit."
"Let me see you walk about the room," ordered Coach Morton. He
watched closely, as Dick obeyed.
"Sit down, Prescott, and draw the trousers leg off on that side.
I want to examine the knee."
While Mr. Morton went to work the other members of the team crowded
about, anxiety written on all their faces.
"Does it hurt more when I press?" asked the submaster keenly.
"Ah, I thought so! Prescott, you're not badly hurt for anything
else; but your knee is in no shape to play this afternoon!"
A wail of dismay went up from the team members. The rueful look
in Dick's face deepened.
"I was afraid you'd bar me out," he confessed. "I never felt
so ashamed in my life."
"It wouldn't be of any use for you to play, for that knee wouldn't
stand it in any rough smash," declared the coach, shaking his
head solemnly.
"It's all off with us, then," groaned one of the fellows. "We may
as well ask Hallam if they'll allow us to hand 'em a score of six
to nothing on a platter, and then stay off the field."
"Hush your croaking, will you?" demanded Dave Darrin angrily,
glaring about him. "Is that the Gridley way? Do we ever admit
defeat? Whoever croaks had better quit the team altogether."
Under that rebuke the boy who had ventured the opinion shrank
back abashed.
"You're sure I'll be in no shape to go on, Coach?" asked Dick
anxiously.
"Why, of course you could go on," replied Mr. Morton. "And you
could run about some, too, unless your knee got a good deal stiffer.
But you wouldn't be up to Gridley form."
"Have I any right to go on, with a knee in this shape?" queried
Dick.
"You certainly haven't," replied Mr. Morton, with great emphasis.
"Dave," called the young football chief, "you're second captain
of the team. Get in and get busy. Put up the best fight you
can for old Gridley!"
"Aye, that I will," retorted Dave Darrin, his eyes sparkling,
cheeks glowing. "I'll go in like a pirate chief, and I'll break
the neck of any Gridley man who doesn't do all there is in him
this afternoon."
"Listen to the fire eater," laughed Fenton. Dave grinned
good-humoredly, but went insistently:
"All right. If any of you fellows think I take less than the
best you can possibly do, try it out with me."
Then Darrin came over to rest a hand on Prescott's shoulder.
"Dick, you'll give me any orders you have before we go on, and
between the halves, won't you?"
"Not a word," replied Dick promptly. "Dave, you can lead as well
as ever I have done. If you're going to be captain to-day you'll
be captain in earnest. I'll hamper you neither with advice nor
orders."
With so important a player as Dick Prescott out of the team Dave
had a hard task in rearranging the eleven. In this he sought
direction from Mr. Morton. Rapidly they sketched the new line-up.
Darrin himself would have to drop quarterback and go to center.
For this latter post Dave was rather light, but he carried the
knack of sturdy assault better than any other man in the team
after Prescott.
Tom Reade was called to quarter. Shortly afterwards all the details
had been completed.
"As to style, you'll gather that from the signals," muttered Darrin.
"The only rule is the one we always have---that we can't be beat
and we know we can't."
There came a rap at the door. Then a bushy mop of football hair
was thrust into the doorway.
"Talking strategy, signals or anything we shouldn't hear?" asked
the pleasant voice of Forsythe, captain of the Hallam Heights
boys.
"Not a blessed thing," returned Dave. "Come in, gentlemen."
Captain Forsythe, in full field toggery, came in, followed by
the members of the visiting team, all as completely attired for
work.
"We're really not intruding?" asked Forsythe, after he had stepped
into the room.
"Not the least in the world," responded Dave heartily. "Mr. Forsythe.
let me introduce you to Mr. Morton, our coach, and to Mr. Prescott,
the real captain of this tin-pan crowd of pigskin chasers."
"Oh, I mistook you for Prescott," replied Forsythe, as he acknowledged
the introductions.
"No; I'm Darrin, the pewter-plate second captain---the worst you've
got to fear to-day," laughed Dave, as he held out his hand.
"Why---what----anything happened?" asked Captain Forsythe, looking
truly concerned.
"Captain Prescott has had his knee injured, and two of our other
crack men are in bed, sick," replied Mr. Morton cheerfully. "Otherwise
we're all quite well."
"Your captain and two other good men out?" asked Forsythe in real
sympathy. "That doesn't sound fair, for we came over here prepared
to put up the very best we had against you old invincibles. I'm
awfully sorry."
"Captain Forsythe, we all thank you for your sympathy," Dick
answered, "but Captain Darrin can lead at least as well as I
can. I believe he can do it better. As for the team that we're
putting in the field to-day, if you can beat it, you could as
easily beat anything we could offer at any other time. So, as
far as one may, with such courteous opponents as you are, Gridley
hurls back its defiance and throws down the battle gage! But
play your very best team, Captain Forsythe, and we'll do our
best in return."