THE FOOTBALL MEETING
Two evenings before the game with Mountfort High School a mass meeting
was held in the assembly hall. Notices of the meeting had been posted
for several days, but there was no wild excitement in evidence.
“You’re going over, aren’t you?” asked Evan of Rob after supper was
over that evening and the boys had returned to their room.
“Oh, yes, I shall go over and see the fun,” replied Rob. “You had
better come along. And we’ll get Mal.”
“What’s it all about?” Evan inquired. “What do they do?”
“Oh, it’s supposed to be a sort of enthusiastic gathering to show the
team that the School loves them; also to contribute little sums of
money into the coffer.”
“Oh,” said Evan. “How much should I give?”
Rob shrugged his shoulders and ran his fingers through his long hair.
“That’s up to you, Evan,” he answered. “I’d suggest, however, that you
donate about the same amount as I shall.”
“And how much shall you give?”
“Not a red cent,” said Rob curtly.
“Oh, but that hardly seems fair, does it?” Evan asked doubtfully. “I
think I’d rather contribute something, Rob.”
“All right; then give ’em a dollar. You’re just throwing your dollar
away, though.”
“What do most of the fellows give?”
“You’re supposed to give what you can afford――or what you want to give.
I used to give ’em two, but what’s the use? Let’s find Mal and go on
over.”
The hall was rather sparsely inhabited when Prentiss arose to address
the meeting. Rob and Evan and Malcolm sat together on a front bench,
and there were about seventy other chaps in attendance. Prentiss
explained that the meeting had been called in pursuance of a school
custom to acquaint the supporters of the football team with the plans
for the season and to secure from them funds with which to carry out
those plans. He informed the audience that the football treasury had
held the sum of twelve dollars and eighty cents at the beginning of the
year, that amount having been left over from the previous season.
“Of course,” he went on, “that didn’t last very long. We have had to
purchase several balls, buy lime for the purpose of marking out the
field and get quite a few little things to begin work with. We are now
without funds and it is necessary that your response to-night should
be generous. We shall need fully a hundred and fifty dollars to carry
us through the season. There will be new sweaters to purchase for the
entire team and one or two pairs of trousers. Of recent years it has
been the custom for players to supply their own shoes, but I think that
is a mistake. Lots of fellows can’t afford to pay what they ought to to
get a good shoe and the result is that they buy cheap things that don’t
give good service. And that naturally affects their playing. I think
the Football Association should buy shoes as well as clothing for the
players, and I’m sure you will agree with me. Our schedule this season
includes games with several teams that require us to travel away from
home, and the item of railroad fares will be considerable. So I hope
you fellows will respond heartily to our appeal, remembering that you
are giving to the School and aiding it in its struggle for football
preeminence. You all want to witness a victory over Adams, and the
first step toward the――the realization of that desire is to put the
Team on its feet financially. Captain Hopkins has a few words to say
before we proceed to business.”
There was a smatter of applause as the manager took his seat and Frank
Hopkins arose. Hopkins could talk very well when he was in the mood,
and he realized that to-night was a time when eloquence was needed.
The slim attendance was not encouraging, and the spirit of the meeting
evidently left much to be desired in the way of warmth and enthusiasm.
Hopkins thrust his hands into his coat pockets and viewed the audience
with a genial smile.
“Well,” he began, “what I have to say isn’t of great consequence,
fellows. You all know why you’re here. We need money for the Team. We
can’t run a football team without money. Fellows have to be clothed
and shod and we have to have balls and head-gears and nose-protectors
and other things too numerous to mention. They all cost money. And, as
the manager has just told you, we’re stoney-broke at this moment. We
couldn’t scrape up ten cents if we tried. In fact, both Prentiss and I
have had to advance small sums of money to keep things going this far.
But we’re going to have a good team this year, one that you’ll all be
proud of.”
“Yes, indeed,” called a sarcastic voice from the audience, and a ripple
of titters arose. Hopkins frowned momentarily, but quickly remembered
his role of geniality and went on:
“We’ve got enough fellows from last year’s team to form an excellent
basis to build upon. And the new material in sight is unusually good.
In short, the outlook is distinctly encouraging, and I, for one, am
quite optimistic regarding the work ahead. Adams has triumphed too
long――”
Applause, and a shrill “That’s no joke!” from somewhere at the back of
the room.
“She has triumphed too long and it is time that we show her that
Riverport is still to be reckoned with. And this fall, fellows, you’ll
see a turning of the tables. We’re going to give old Adams a drubbing
that will make up, more than make up for past defeats!”
“So _you_ say!” somebody remarked after the applause had died down.
Hopkins turned in the direction of the voice.
“I see,” he said, “that we have one or two ‘knockers’ with us. That’s
to be expected, however. There are always a few fellows sufficiently
lacking in patriotism and school spirit to think it smart to jeer.
Well, I guess that’s all I’ve got to say this evening. Except that I
hope you will help us all you can. If every one of you will give what
he is able to we, on our part, will fulfill our share of the contract.
And I’ll tell you right now, fellows, that when the season is done
you’ll have no cause to regret your generosity.”
Hopkins had made a good speech and even Rob was forced to clap a little
as the captain took his seat again. Joe Law arose and demanded “a cheer
for Captain Hopkins” and the audience responded fairly well.
“Now,” announced Prentiss, taking the platform again, “some of the
fellows will pass through the hall and receive your contributions. When
it is possible, please give cash. If you haven’t the cash, then write
your pledges on the slips of paper.”
Law and three other football men arose and started on the rounds. A
buzz of conversation dispelled the quiet of the hall.
“Guess I ought to give a couple of dollars,” whispered Evan to Rob. Rob
frowned.
“If you do, you’re an idiot,” he growled. “What are you going to give,
Mal?”
“Oh, a dollar, I reckon. I’d rather not give them anything, but it
seems rather small not to.”
“Then I’ll give a dollar, too,” said Evan as he found his pocket-book.
“If they got that much from every fellow――”
“They won’t, though,” said Rob. “A lot of them won’t give a cent. And
some think a half’s enough. If they get a hundred this year they’ll
be doing mighty well. The fellows are getting tired of paying for a
football team that never delivers the goods.”
Law passed the cap along the row and Evan and Malcolm deposited their
contributions. Law stared at Rob.
“Come on, now, Rob,” he said, “shell out.”
“Not me,” answered Rob with a smile. “I have better use for my money,
Joe. Go on with your old hat.”
“My, but you’re a tight-wad,” said Joe, with a shrug of his big
shoulders.
Presently the collectors handed their harvest to Prentiss. The audience
waited to hear the result announced. Prentiss and Hopkins counted and
figured and at last the former came to the front of the platform with a
slip in his hand.
“Doesn’t look happy, does he?” chuckled Rob.
“The amount contributed,” announced Prentiss with thinly veiled
sarcasm, “is eighty dollars and sixty cents. I want to thank the
generous donor of that ten cent piece if he will stand up where I can
see him.”
The audience laughed, but no one arose.
“Of course,” continued Prentiss, “there’s no necessity for me to tell
you that you haven’t subscribed much more than half enough money. But
that’s your look-out, I guess. If you don’t want a decent team, why,
you’re going the right way to get what you do want. To those that have
contributed generously――and a few have――I offer thanks. The meeting is
over.”
“It’s better than I thought it would be,” chuckled Rob as they pushed
their way through the throng at the door. “A long ways eighty dollars
will take them!”
“What do you suppose they’ll do?” asked Evan.
“I guess they’ll go broke. Probably make their last year’s uniforms do
instead of getting new ones. It’s all nonsense, anyway, for Prentiss to
say that they have to have a hundred and fifty dollars. A good manager
could get along with not much more than half of that. I guess they’ll
have to this year.”
“Oh, they’ll probably call another meeting,” said Malcolm, “or send
around canvassers to get after the fellows who haven’t contributed.”
“They don’t know who have contributed and who haven’t,” said Rob,
“aside from those who signed their names to pledges. All a fellow would
have to do when a canvasser tackled him would be to say that he gave
cash at the meeting to-night.”
“That’s so,” Malcolm agreed.
“I sort of wish I’d given another dollar,” mused Evan. “I’d like to see
the team wallop Adams, and if they need money to be able to do that it
seems as though they ought to have it.”
“It isn’t money they need,” said Rob, “but some good players, a decent
captain and manager and somebody to show them football. If Hop would
engage a coach he could get all the money he needed, and more too. The
trouble with those two chaps is that they’ve got it into their heads
that _they_ are the Riverport Football Team. They want to do it all
themselves. Even if Hop got a coach he’d be always interfering and I
guess Mr. Coach would stay about one week. Then he’d kick Hop and get
out.”
“This is Hopkins’ last year, isn’t it?” Evan asked.
“Yes, praises be! And Prentiss’s, too.”
“Who will be captain next year, then?”
“I don’t know. Hop and Prentiss will arrange that between them. I
think, though, that Joe Law is getting into line for the honor. Or
maybe the mantle will descend upon Miller.”
“But don’t they hold an election?”
“Sort of a one. It’s all fixed beforehand, though. Hop will tell the
fellows whom he wants elected and they’ll vote as he tells them to.
It’s rather a farce. The whole thing’s a farce. But we’re going to
change it, fellows.”
“Are we?” laughed Malcolm. “And how are we going to do it?”
Rob shook his head mysteriously.
“You wait and see,” he answered.
It was still early when they reached the dormitory and they went into
Malcolm’s room and made themselves comfortable and continued their
discussion of the football situation. Rob was extremely eloquent this
evening and derived a lot of pleasure in hauling Hopkins and Prentiss
over the coals.
“I don’t see,” he said finally to Evan, “why you want to give those
chaps money for their old team after the way they treated you.”
“Well, I dare say I didn’t do very well,” Evan replied. “In fact, I’m
sure I didn’t. I can’t play end and I told Devens so when I started.
And he didn’t need a quarter or a half――”
“The dickens he didn’t! Call that chap Hinkley a half-back, do you?
Well, I don’t. And they need a good quarter on the First Team, too.
Miller’s a frost. How’s the ankle getting on?”
“Oh, it’s all right now,” Evan replied.
“That’s good. You may need the use of it before long.”
“Why?”
“Oh, you’ll see.”
“Say, Rob, you’re beastly mysterious to-night,” complained Malcolm.
“What have you got up your sleeve?”
“Only my arm,” answered Rob. “I’ll tell you all about it, Mal, as soon
as――as my plans are perfected.”
“You and your plans!” grunted Malcolm derisively.
When Rob and Evan said good-night and returned to their own room Evan
got ready for bed, but Rob, after partially undressing, went to the
lower drawer of his bureau and began hauling things over. That lower
drawer was Rob’s workshop. There were all sorts of tools there and
spools of wire and pieces of metal and odds and ends of all kinds. Evan
called it the junk-shop. When working on one of his numerous inventions
Rob produced a board about three feet long and eighteen inches wide
from the closet and set it on his bed. Then he drew his chair up to it
and filed or hammered or whittled to his heart’s content. There was
usually a litter of shavings or metal filings――sometimes both――on bed
and floor, and Evan had long ago learned to avoid that part of the room
unless his feet were protected with slippers. It isn’t pleasant to step
on nails or screws or ends of wire, as Evan was continually doing at
first. To-night Rob emptied a cigar-box of its contents, fixed his
improvised bench in place and set to work with knife and paste-pot.
“What are you up to?” inquired Evan.
“You wait and see,” was the pre-occupied answer. Evan laid hold of a
book and threatened Rob’s head with it.
“If you say that to me again to-night, Rob, I’ll brain you!” he
declared. Rob looked up, laughed and went on with his work.
“All right, chum, I’ll tell you, then. It’s this way. Your eloquence
in behalf of the football team this evening has touched my calloused
heart, Evan. Something ought to be done to secure the money they need,
and I’m doing it.”
“Well, what’s the cigar-box for?”
“It is no longer a cigar-box; that is, it will be no longer a cigar-box
when I get through with it; it will be a contribution-box. I am making
a slot here in the lid, you see. Then I shall tack the lid down,
cover the whole with nice pink paper and adorn it with a suitable
inscription, an inscription that will wring the pennies from the
penniless.”
“Rob, you’re an awful idiot,” laughed Evan as he slipped into bed.
“Finish it in the morning and let’s get to sleep.”
“Never put off until to-morrow what can be done to-night,” replied Rob
virtuously. “You just turn your little face away from the light and
compose yourself for slumber, Evan.”
“Oh, thunder, I can’t go to sleep with that light shining!”
“Bet you you’ll be snoring inside of ten minutes.”
“Bet you I won’t. Besides, I don’t snore. You do the snoring for this
establishment, you human calliope.”
“No one ever called me that before,” said Rob sadly. “Really, Evan, I
don’t believe that I snore. I think you dream it.”
“Oh, you do, eh?” muttered Evan as he turned over. “I just wish you had
to listen to yourself sometimes!”
Rob won his wager, for Evan, if he didn’t actually snore, at least
proved conclusively within the designated time that he was sound
asleep. Half an hour later he opened his eyes during a wakeful moment
and saw Rob still at work on the cigar-box. How late he labored with it
Evan never knew, but in the morning it was finished. Evan saw it the
first thing after getting up, read the inscription and howled loudly
and gleefully, but not loud enough to awake Rob who was still sleeping
the sleep of one who has kept late hours.