CHAPTER XV
THE PLAN
There was hard practice that afternoon in preparation for the MusketHill Academy game, and the second squad, in process of becoming thesecond team, with a coach and signals of its own, was sent against thefirst for three long periods. Myron found himself with the third squad,as usual, however, and ended practice with a half-hour scrimmage againstthe substitutes. Perhaps Cummins' words had made an impression, for hecertainly played good, hard ball today and ran rings around the opposingends and backs. As they played on the second team gridiron, while thefirst team was battling, his performance was not noted by the coach.But Keene, an end who was off with a bad ankle and who refereed thescrimmage, saw and casually made mention of Myron's work to Jud Mellenlater.
"That chap Foster played a nifty game today," said Keene. "He might bearwatching, Jud."
"Foster? Yes, he's not half bad. If we didn't have so many good halveshe might be useful. Best we can do for him, though, is to carry himover for next year, I guess."
"Well, he's a pretty player. It seems too bad to waste him. How would hefit at end?"
"Looking for a chance to retire?" laughed Jud. "What would we do withanother end, Larry? Have a heart, man!"
"Well, but he ought to be tried somewhere, just the same, Jud. He playsso blamed smooth!"
"I wonder if he'd make a quarter." Jud paused in the act of lacing ashoe and stared speculatively at a grated and dusty window. Then heshook his head. "I guess we're good enough at quarter. We'll know betterafter Saturday's game, though. How's the foot getting on? Going to beable to play a bit?"
"Sure! It's coming on fine. I'll be good for the whole game."
"Yes, you will, son! A couple of quarters is about your stunt, I guess.Driscoll wants to give O'Curry a show, anyway. Know what I think? Well,I think Musket Hill's going to give us a tough old tussle. They've gotalmost every lineman they had last year and the same quarter; and youknow what the score was last time."
"Twelve to ten, wasn't it?"
"Yes, and it ought to have been turned around, for they played us toa standstill in the second half. Driscoll's firm for starting with asecond-string line, but I don't like it. That Musket Hill coach is afox. If they get a score on us in the first quarter we'll be lucky topass them."
"They play hard ball, and that's no joke," agreed Keene. "I hope hepulls me out before Grafton gets in."
"What's the matter with Graf?"
"I don't know, but I can't seem to get on with him. I think he plays toomuch for the centre of the line. There's always a hole there and I getabout two yards more of territory to look after. You keep your place,but Grafton sort of wanders in."
"Glad you spoke of it," answered Jud. "I'll watch him. Going over?"
Up to a half-hour after supper Myron was convinced that he had nointention of visiting Cummins that evening. Cummins was a lot moredecent than he had thought him, in fact a rather likable fellow, buthe had a disagreeable way of saying things that--well, didn't needto be said. Besides, there was something almost indecent in tellinganother that you liked him and asking him to be pals! Even if Cumminshad taken a fancy to him, as he declared, at least he might have keptit to himself. But when supper was over and Myron had turned on thesteam in Number 17--the evenings were getting decidedly chilly now--andsettled himself to write a letter home, Cummins' freckled countenanceinsisted on obtruding itself between him and the sheet of grey,yellow-monogrammed paper. Joe had not returned to the room and, when theletter was written and he had brushed up on Latin and math., he wouldbe pretty well bored, he supposed. He got as far as "Dear Mother andFather: I didn't get this letter written yesterday because I was verybusy----" Then, after trying to recall what he had been busy with andfiddling with the self-filling device on his pen for a good ten minutes,he gave it up. He guessed he'd walk over and hear what Cummins' planwas. Not that it interested him any, but he didn't feel like writingjust now.
Cummins himself answered Myron's knock, although the battered doorof Number 16 bore not only his card but that of "Guy Henry Brown,"to the end of which name some facetious person had added the letters"D.D." Brown, who played right half on the first team, was not at home,however, and Cummins, stretched out along the window-seat, was the soleoccupant of the room. The room served as study and chamber both, and anarrow, white-enamelled bed stood against the wall on each side. Therest of the furnishings were nondescript and had evidently seen longservice. A few posters adorned the painted walls and the carpet wasso threadbare in places that one had to guess at the original patternand hue. Nevertheless, there was a comfortable and home-like look toNumber 16 which Myron acknowledged. Cummins tore himself from the bookhe was reading with unflattering deliberateness and indicated a shabbyautomatic rocking-chair.
"Try the Nerve Dispeller," he invited. "So called because when used yourown nerves leave you and go to the other chap, who has to watch yourock. It's all right; it won't go over; that's just its playful way."
"What were you reading?" asked Myron, by way of conversation.
Chas held the book up and the visitor was surprised to see that it waswhat he mentally called "a kid's story."
"Oh," he murmured.
Chas grinned. "I know, but I like them. They're easy to understand andthere's generally something doing all through; and you can't say thatfor these novels some of the fellows pretend to read. I tried to wadethrough one last summer. Nothing happened until I got to page 112, andthen the hero changed his shoes. Maybe he changed back again later, butI ducked. Well, how are you tonight?"
"Me? All right, thanks." Myron wondered why he had said "Me," and thenrealised that he had caught the trick from Joe. "I had a letter towrite, but I couldn't seem to get at it, and so I thought I'd drop overand see--hear----"
"That plan? Well, it's a good one. Put your feet up here, will you, andkeep that thing still? Do you mind? It pretty nearly sets me crazy totalk to any one who's bobbing back and forth like one of those chinamandarins! I'd have chucked that chair long ago, only Guy hates it worsethan I do. Do you know him, by the way? Guy Brown: plays right half onthe first."
"Only to speak to. I'm not well acquainted amongst the ministry."
"Oh, that? Some fresh youth wrote that and a couple of days afterwardsHale called--Do you have him in physics? He lives down the hall--andsaid it was sacrilegious. But I told him it stood for 'Decent Dub' andhe calmed down. Say, Foster, can you keep a secret?"
"Yes, of course."
"There's no 'of course' about it," said Chas. "Lot's of fellows can't.I'm not very good at it myself. But I guess you're one of the kind whocan. Well, here it is. I'm going to be captain next year."
"Are you? Captain of what?" asked Myron politely.
"Football, you chump! What did you think, the Tennis Team?"
"Oh!" Myron stared, wondering whether the other was joking. But Chasappeared to be quite in earnest and returned Myron's gaze with anexpression of bland inquiry.
"Does that interest you?" he asked.
"It interests me to know how you know you are," said Myron.
"Of course. Remember that it's a secret. If you ever tell any one whatI've just said I'll draw and quarter you and frizzle you crisp inboiling oil. I know it, old chap, because I'm after the job, and whatI go after I get. Unless some dark horse develops between now and theKenwood game I'm certain to get it. So we'll call that settled, shallwe?"
"Just as you say," laughed Myron. "If you want it, though, I hope youget it."
"Thanks. Of course, I realise that it isn't usual to mention suchmatters. You're not supposed to know that there is such a thing as acaptaincy. When you get it you nearly die of surprise. Well, that's notme. I'm after it. Mean to get it, too. I wouldn't say this to everyfellow because most of them would be so shocked at my--my indelicacythey'd never get over it. Besides which, they'd probably vote againstme." Chas chuckled. "So can you if you like, Foster. I'm not making abid for your vote."
"I'm not likely to have one," replied Myron drily.
/> "You will have if my plan works out. Now you listen. If I'm going tocaptain next year's team--and I am, old chap; don't you doubt it!--Iwant some players around me. I don't want to run up against Kenwood andget licked. That might do when some other fellow's running things, butnot when I am. No, I want some real players with me, Foster. So I'mbuilding my team this fall."
Myron laughed. "Honest, Cummins, you're the craziest chump I ever met!Are you--are you in earnest?"
"Why not? Good, practical scheme, isn't it? What's wrong with it?"
"Well, but--you're not captain! And how can you build up a team whenyou're not?"
"How? You watch me. Take your case, old chap. Maybe you won't make goodthis year. Mind, I say _maybe_. I think you will. But if you don't,what?" Myron shook his head helplessly, signifying he gave it up andthat no matter what the answer proved to be he was beyond surprise!"Why, you'll be A1 material for next--_if_ you keep your head up.That's my game, to see that you keep going and learn all the footballyou can and don't drop out of training after the season's over. Ithink basket-ball will be a good thing for you to take up, Foster. Oryou might go in for the gymnastic team. But I won't have you playingbaseball, so don't get that bug in your bonnet. Baseball's spoiled a lotof good football chaps. Track's all right if you don't overdo it. We'llsettle all that later, though."
"Very well," agreed Myron docilely. "Don't mind me."
Chas grinned. "Not going to--much. But you see the idea, don't you? Whatdo you think of it?"
"I think," returned Myron deliberately, "that it's one of the craziestschemes I ever heard of."
Chas looked much pleased. "All right. And then what?"
"And I think it may work out beautifully."
"Sure it will! So that's why I went after you, old chap. You're a'prospect.'"
"Oh," said Myron demurely, "I thought it was because you had taken aviolent fancy to me."
"That too! Don't make any mistake, old chap. I want fellows of the rightsort, and I want fellows that I like and who like me. I can do thingswith that sort: they'll work for me. And I'll work for them: work myfingers off if necessary. Now for the plan."
"I'm listening," said Myron.
"How'd you like to get on the first this fall, Foster?"
"Well, seeing that I'm black-and-blue pretty nearly all over, that seemssort of--of idle!"
"Just getting black-and-blue isn't enough, old chap. Lots of dubs arepurple-and-green that'll be dropped next week. Now, look here. Who toldyou you were a born half-back?"
"No one, of course. I've played that position, though, and know it. Iplayed end for a while too, but half seemed to be my place."
"Yes. Well, we've got exactly five good to middling half-backs thisyear, Foster, and you're no better than about two of them and not nearlyso good as two more, Brown and Meldrum. So, you see, you're sort of upagainst it. See that, don't you?"
"I suppose so. Just the same, if I had a chance I might beat Brounkerand Vance, and then, if Brown or Meldrum----"
"Broke his neck you'd get in?" asked Chas impatiently. "What's thegood of that sort of figuring? What you want to do, old chap, is togo after something that shows a chance of success. That other game'stoo much like waiting for dead men's shoes, as they say. You might getinto the big game for five minutes, or you might not. And I'm not sodead sure that you could beat out those fellows. And, anyway, there'sstill Robbins against you. Yes, I know he isn't such a wonder now, butsuppose he starts to come while you're coming? How do you know he won'tcome just as fast, or a little bit faster? No, that's rotten planning,Foster. You're all wrong. Forget that you're a half and go hard after ajob that's open to you."
"Where'll I find it?" asked Myron. "What other position is there?"
"Full-back," said Chas.