IN CONFERENCE
“I wish,” said Blash one evening, “that someone would invent a new
sport.”
“What for?” asked Sid. “Thinking of taking a little exercise? Ever try
checkers, Blash? That’s about your style of a game.”
“Cease your idle chatter,” answered his room-mate with dignity. “I’m
not thinking of myself. I’m thinking of Sandy Halden. Sandy is out of
a job again. They let him go from the Track Team today. Billy Goode
thinks the school can worry along through the year without him as
a jumper or half-miler or shot-putter. Of course, Billy’s probably
mistaken, but there it is.”
“Just what was Sandy? A shot-putter or one of the other things you
mentioned?” Sid laid down his pencil and tipped back squeakingly in
his chair. It was study hour in Number 27 Goss, but Blash wasn’t in a
studious mood.
“George Keene says he was broad-jumping the last thing. He’d tried
running, and maybe everything else for all I know, and had got Billy
to let him try jumping. This afternoon, Keene says, Sandy managed
a perfectly marvellous jump of eighteen feet or something and then
claimed that Hollaway, who had the tape, didn’t measure it right.
Claimed he’d done twenty-one even and pointed to his foot-prints--only
they happened to be someone else’s--and was very nasty until Hollaway
offered to beat him to a pulp and Billy gave him his time. So now Sandy
is nursing a new grouch and looking for new worlds to conquer.” Blash
yawned widely. “That’s why I want a new sport. You see, Sid, Sandy has
tried everything now.”
“He might try canoeing and tip over,” suggested Sid.
“Don’t be heartless. Besides, he can probably swim!” Blash drummed his
fingers on the edge of the table until Sid, who had returned to work,
exclaimed protestingly. “Look here, what am I going to do about Dick
Bates?” asked Blash, thrusting his hands into his pockets to make them
behave.
Sid pushed his book away and sighed in resignation. “All right, hang
you,” he said. “Go ahead and talk yourself out, and when you’re quite
through I’ll finish this math. What about Dick?”
“Why,” laughed Blash, “I owe him something. You haven’t forgotten that
hoax he worked on me in the movie house, have you?”
“Not by a long shot!” Sid grinned. “That was corking, Blash.”
“Hm. Well, yes, I acknowledge that it was. And being corking, it
demands a corking come-back. But I can’t seem to see one. My powers
of--of invention----”
“You never had any. Why not forget it and call quits? You put one over
on Dick the day you came up in the carriage with him, didn’t you?”
“Oh, that was nothing. Purely impromptu, Sid. What I want now is
something--something grand and magnificent, something worth while! Can
you think of anything?”
“No, and if I could I wouldn’t. You let Dick alone until he’s through
football. Your old tricks will only get his mind off his work.”
“Think so? I wouldn’t want to worry him, Sid. My idea is only to amuse
him, to provide diversion.” Blash was silent a moment and Sid, eyeing
him doubtfully, stretched a tentative hand toward his book. But Blash
wasn’t talked out yet. He chuckled. “Stan told me something funny
about Dick yesterday,” he announced. “It seems that he’s a bit of a
hero back home and his high school paper has been copying everything
about him it could find in _The Leader_ and playing it up hard. Now his
father is writing to ask him if he doesn’t do anything here besides
play football and is threatening to take him out of school!”
“Get out!” Sid looked incredulous. “That’s just one of Stan’s yarns.”
“Honest to coconuts, Sid! And Dick’s terribly worried and is afraid the
old man will learn that he’s been taken into the Banjo and Mandolin
Club. Say if his father hears that, he’ll disown him!”
Sid laughed. “Must be a cranky old codger! Most fathers would be rather
proud, I guess. I recall that mine slipped me a twenty-dollar check
when I wrote home that I’d been elected baseball captain!”
“Well, that’s different,” said Blash gently. “You see, he’d never
expected much from you, Sid, and the surprise momentarily unnerved him.
And I suppose that by the time he’d pulled himself together again and
tried to stop payment on that check you had it cashed.”
“I sure did,” laughed Sid. “And spent, too, most of it!”
“I think I remember the occasion. Well, I’ve been sort of dallying with
the notion that there might be a chance to get a rise out of Dick
in connection with his father’s--er--attitude. I don’t just see my
way clear yet, but--there’s an idea floating around at the back of my
brain----”
“It will probably die of loneliness,” said Sid comfortingly, “so don’t
trouble about it. Just you take my advice and let Dick alone. I’ll tell
you right now that I shan’t help you in any of your nefarious plots,
Blash.”
“That’s all right. I think I’ll be able to work this alone.” Blash
stared thoughtfully at the light and a slow smile overspread his lean
countenance. “Yes, I think I shall,” he added with conviction.
Sid looked across suspiciously. “I’ve a good mind to warn him against
you,” he said; “tell him to look out for plots.”
“Piffle! You mind my own business. I’m not going to hurt Dick. Besides,
I--I haven’t got it quite. It--it eludes muh!”
“I hope it’ll continue to elude you. Now, for the love of Pete, shut up
and let me study, will you?”
“Sure! I didn’t ask you to stop studying. Think your conversation is
interesting to me? Go on and study. I’m going to Sohmer.”
“Stan’s?”
“I might drop in there. Come over when you’re through with that rot.
What you want to bother with it for is more than I know, anyway. You’re
just making it harder for the rest of us!”
When, a half-hour later, Sid joined his room-mate in Number 14 Sohmer,
he found to his relief three boys amicably and unemotionally discussing
the prospects of the college football teams. Blash, however, looked
horribly pleased and innocent, and Sid’s suspicions returned. He always
suspected Blash when he looked innocent.
The St. Luke’s Academy game on the following Saturday proved one of the
best contests of the season. The visitors usually gave an excellent
account of themselves, but the closeness of the score on this occasion
was a big surprise to Parkinson. The best the home team could do in the
first half was to drop a single field-goal over the cross-bar, and even
that modest performance was delayed until the second quarter was almost
over.
It was Newhall, the big right guard, who made the tally possible by
breaking through on St. Luke’s thirty-two yards and spoiling a punt.
The pigskin bounded away from Newhall’s body as he leaped into its
path, and went trickling across the sod. A dozen players pursued it
but it was Bob Peters who won, and when the pile-up was disentangled
it was found snuggled under his chest. From the enemy’s twenty-eight
to her eighteen Gaines and Kirkendall alternated, the latter finally
making the last of the distance with only inches to spare. Warden
failed to gain and a quarter-back run netted but three yards. With
Kirkendall back, on a fake kick, Gaines got through right guard for
three more. With four to go on fourth down Kirkendall dropped the ball
between the uprights for the only score of the half.
St. Luke’s presented a heavy team and a most aggressive one. From end
to end, her line outweighed Parkinson’s by many pounds, but weight
didn’t mean slowness in her case, and time and again the visitors made
gains by getting the jump on their opponent. In the back-field she was
lighter but quite as fast as the Brown-and-White. St. Luke’s suffered,
however, as was generally agreed, from a lack of good scoring plays.
She relied on weight and speed to break through the enemy line and
her reliance was not misplaced. But she had not counted evidently on
the excellent defence put up by Parkinson’s back-field. Her lighter
backs, once through the line, were almost invariably stopped short
of conclusive gains. She had almost nothing to offer in the way of
variety and her runs outside tackles were weak. The overhead game she
let severely alone during the first half of the contest and tried but
four times later. At punting, however, she excelled Kirkendall by five
yards and, in the last quarter, when K went out, bested Gaines by fully
eight.
The third period opened up with Parkinson kicking off and St. Luke’s
running the ball back from her goal-line to her thirty-eight, Furniss
missing a tackle and Harris finally bringing the runner down. St.
Luke’s battered the Brown-and-White for her distance, smashing through
Cupp on the left of centre for five yards and again for two and
completing her job by an unexpected slide off Wendell. Once over the
fifty-yard-line, however, she failed to gain in four and punted to
Warden on his fifteen. Warden gained five. Kirkendall threw Peters on
his thirty-three and Bob was downed. Off-side on the next play set
Parkinson back and three downs gained but six yards. Kirkendall punted.
St. Luke’s fumbled but recovered and ran in twelve yards across the
field. Parkinson’s line failed to give and St. Luke’s tried her first
forward-pass. Although she managed to bunch three men for the catch,
the pass grounded. She punted on the next down and Stone misjudged the
ball and followed it across the line for a touchback. A few minutes
later Warden got away around the enemy’s left and zigzagged nearly
twenty yards before he was run out at his forty. A fake-kick, with
Kirkendall carrying the ball on a wide run around the enemy’s right,
added seven more and Gaines made the distance on the fifty. With Peters
coming around from right end, Stone made two through centre, and the
same play, with Peters carrying, gained four outside St. Luke’s left
end. A subsequent attempt by Gaines failed and Parkinson punted. The
kick went short and cross the boundary at the enemy’s thirty-two yards.
St. Luke’s made four around Furniss and failed at the centre. She then
tried her second forward-pass and made it good, taking the ball just
past midfield. Scoville took Furniss’ place for Parkinson. St. Luke’s
tried out the new end and was stopped for a two-yard loss. A cross-buck
on right tackle gave her four and her full-back romped through a wide
hole in Parkinson’s centre for eight. St. Luke’s now concentrated on
Newhall and Wendell and made short gains, Newhall finally giving up
and going out in favour of Bartlett. The Parkinson right side was
weakening and the enemy battered it hard and inched along to the
Brown-and-White’s twenty-nine. There a fumble cost her a seven-yard
loss. Faking a place-kick, her right half took the ball through Wendell
for six and it was second down on Parkinson’s thirty. A plunge at
centre was stopped and again St. Luke’s prepared to kick. This time the
ball went to quarter and that nimble youth romped ahead for the needed
distance and was downed on the twenty-five.
Two attempts at the right side gave the visitors five yards and
necessitated the substitution of Cairns for Wendell. Cairns stopped
a plunge at his position and, on fourth down, with a tackle back in
kicking position, St. Luke’s made her distance on a skin-tackle play
that shot her left half off Harris to Parkinson’s fourteen.
St. Luke’s ran on a fresh right tackle and a substitute left half, and,
for Parkinson, Long went in for Gaines. With a tackle back and every
indication of a forward-pass, St. Luke’s smashed at the Parkinson right
side for three and repeated the play for two more. From the nine yards
the enemy reached the three in two attacks at centre and then hurling
her whole back-field at Bartlett, she sent her right tackle trickling
around the Parkinson left end. Warden nailed the runner just short of
the line, but couldn’t prevent a score. It was a touchdown by less than
a hand’s breadth, but a touchdown nevertheless. St. Luke’s failed on
the punt-out and the score stood 6-3.
The period ended with the next play and Parkinson made four changes.
Gleason went in for Cupp, Dean for Upton, Trask for Kirkendall and
Bates for Stone. St. Luke’s made two substitutions, sending in a new
centre and a new full-back.
Dick carried instructions from Mr. Driscoll to open up the play, and
Trask, standing on his twenty-four yards, sent off a forward-pass to
Peters well up the field. Peters touched the pigskin but couldn’t hold
it. The same play to the other side of the field, Trask to Long, netted
eighteen yards. Dick sent a plunge at the St. Luke’s right side but
Trask made only a yard. Warden ripped off four outside left tackle. A
forward-pass, Trask to Scoville, added twelve, Scoville being downed
where he caught. Three line plunges left Parkinson three yards short of
her distance and Trask punted short to the enemy’s seventeen.
St. Luke’s tried the Parkinson ends and gained five in two downs and
punted to midfield, the ball going out. Dick was getting more speed
into the team than it had shown before and St. Luke’s was finding the
attacks at her line harder to stop. A weak spot developed at the St.
Luke’s right tackle and thrice Warden and Trask plunged through for
gains. In eight downs Parkinson advanced to the enemy’s twenty-eight
yards. There, with Trask back in kicking position, Dick scurried around
the St. Luke’s left end and found a free field to her twelve, where
he was tackled by the quarter just inside the boundary. The ball was
outside on the next play and was paced in on the eleven yards. Warden
slid off right tackle for three and put the pigskin down in front of
the right-hand goal-post. With Cairns back as though to kick, Dick
tossed the ball to Long and Long shot it across the line to Peters for
a touchdown. Parkinson arose in the stand and howled approval.
And that ended the scoring. Coach Driscoll ran on numerous second- and
third-string players in the final four minutes and the game became
hectic and uncertain, with several penalties and two costly fumbles,
shared by the two teams, and Dick having heart-failure every time he
called his signals. But, although St. Luke’s worked her way back to
Parkinson’s thirty-five yards and looked formidable, the defenders
took the ball away before she could try a field-goal and punted out of
danger. And before the enemy could start another advance the whistle
blew.
On the whole, both teams played good football, and there were plenty
who maintained that, given a half-dozen tricky plays, St. Luke’s would
have scored a victory. Of course Parkinson had shown plenty of weak
spots. For three periods she had been slow in the line and not much
faster behind it. Newhall had made a poor showing against St. Luke’s
left guard and Furniss, at left end, had had an off-day. Stone had
sometimes chosen the wrong plays. But everything considered Parkinson
had proved herself a powerful team and shown considerable improvement
over her performance of a week ago.
Parkinson’s best-beloved rival Kenwood, had had a season of ups and
downs and, as Coach Driscoll said at the first conference following the
St. Luke’s game, there was no telling what sort of a team she would
present against Parkinson on the twenty-third of November. She had been
decisively beaten in mid-season by Bonright School, had turned around
a week later and slammed Wainstow to the tune of 26-0, had been tied
by Musket Hill and now, on Saturday last, had just nosed out a victory
over Chancellor.
“She’s got good material,” said Mr. Driscoll, “but it isn’t running
true to form. And she’s had some hard luck, too. Losing her best back,
Shotwell, early in the season was against her. But the chief trouble,
as I see it, is that she doesn’t seem to have settled on a definite
playing policy, unless she’s done it within the week. She started out
with light backs and a lot of fast, clever trick plays that worked
all right until she ran up against Bonright. Bonright seems to have
beaten her at her own game. After that she laid off heavy Browne and
that other half, whatever his name was, and took on two heavy men and
started in playing a line game, smashing tandems between tackles and
using a very good forward-pass with two men receiving. But she hasn’t
developed a dependable goal-kicker yet, unless she’s got someone in
hiding. Nutting missed two tries, both easy, on Saturday. So, as I say,
there’s no such thing as sizing her up. Of course, we may get a sort of
a line on her after we’ve met Chancellor this week, but I don’t expect
much that will help us.”
“It never seems to make much difference how Kenwood plays during the
season,” observed Stearns Whipple. “She’s always top-of-form when she
gets to us!”
“We’ll have one advantage, anyhow,” said Bob Peters. “We’ve come along
pretty steady and what we know we’ve learned. Kenwood has sort of gone
one step forward and two back, and she doesn’t know just where she’s
at, I guess. What about her condition, Billy?”
“Oh, she’s got a first-class trainer in Connell and he will do his part
all right. You mustn’t look for any advantage there, Cap. Her men will
be in condition all right. As good as ours, I guess.”
“We’ll outpunt her, Coach,” said Stone.
“With Kirkendall in, yes. But that man of hers, Brighouse, has a clever
foot. And he puts his punts where he wants them to go, I hear. We may
outdistance him a few yards, but a lot depends on the wind. I have a
sort of a hunch, fellows, that Kenwood is keeping something up her
sleeve. I can’t tell you why I think that, or what the something is,
but that’s my hunch.”
“And your hunches are generally right,” mused Peters. “Any second-string
fellow that looks as if he was being held back? A clever back-field man,
for instance?”
“I haven’t found any. No, I think it’s a goal-kicker, or maybe they’ve
got a new scoring play that they haven’t shown. Well, I’m only
guessing. We’ll know better a week from Saturday. Now let’s do some
planning on the week from now to Thursday. We’ve got to buckle down
and find a way of getting some punch into those split-plays. Or else
drop them. What’s your idea, Cap?”
Whereupon the meeting became very technical and abstruse.