Page 24 of Left Guard Gilbert


  CHAPTER XXIV

  "ALL READY, BRIMFIELD?"

  THOSE who braved a chill east wind and went out that afternoon to watchpractice enjoyed a sensation, for when the first team came trotting overfrom the gymnasium, a half-hour later because of a rigorous signal quiz,amongst them, dressed to play, was Don Gilbert! A buzz of surprise andconjecture travelled through the ranks of the shivering onlookers, thatspeedily gave place to satisfaction, and as Don, tossing aside hisblanket, followed the first-string players into the field a small andenthusiastic First Form youth clapped approvingly, others took it up andin a moment the applause crackled along the side line.

  "That's for you," whispered Tim to Don. "Lift off your head-guard!"

  But Don glanced alarmedly toward the fringe of spectators and hid asbest he could behind Thursby! Practice went with a new vim today.Doubtless the return of Don heartened the team, for one thing, and thenthere was a snap of winter in the air that urged to action. The secondwas as nearly torn to tatters this afternoon as it had ever been, andthe first scored twice in each of the two fifteen-minute periods."Boutelle's Babies" were a lame and tired aggregation when the finalwhistle blew!

  Later it became known that Walton was out of it, had emptied his lockerand retired from football affairs for the year. All sorts of storiescirculated. One had it that he had quarrelled with Coach Robey and beenincontinently "fired." Another that he had become huffy over Gilbert'sreinstatement and had resigned. None save Don and Coach Robey and Waltonhimself knew the truth of the matter for a long time. Don did tell Timeventually, but that was two years later, when his vow of secrecy hadlapsed. Just now he was about as communicative as a sphinx, and Tim'seager curiosity had to go unsatisfied.

  "But what did he _say_?" Tim demanded after practice that afternoon. "Hemust have said _something_!"

  Don considered leisurely. "No, nothing special. He said I was to reportfor work."

  "Well, what did _you_ say?"

  "I said I would!"

  "Well, what about Walton? Where does he get off?"

  "I don't know."

  Tim gestured despairingly. "Gee, you're certainly a chatty party! Don'ttell me any more, please! You may say something you'll be sorry for!"

  "I'll tell you some day all about it, Tim. I can't now. I said Iwouldn't."

  "Then there is something to tell, eh? I knew it! You can't fool yourUncle Dudley like that, Donald! Tell me just one thing and I'll shut up.Did you and Walton have a row the time you went to see him in his room?"

  Don shook his head. "No, we didn't."

  "Well, then, why----"

  "You said you'd shut up," reminded the other.

  "Oh, all right," grumbled Tim. "Anyway, I'm mighty glad. Every fellow onthe team is as pleased as Punch. I guess the whole school is, too. Itwas mighty decent of Robey, wasn't it? Do you know, Don, Robey's got alot of sense for a football coach?"

  Don often wondered what had occurred and been said at the interviewbetween Mr. Robey and Harry Walton. The coach had sworn Don to silenceat the termination of their interview. "If Walton asks you whether youtold me about the business you can say you did, if you like. Or tellhim I wormed it out of you, which is just about what I did do. But don'tsay anything to anyone else about it; at all events, not as long asWalton's here. I'm going to find him now and have a talk with him. Idon't think you need be at all afraid of anything he may do after I getthrough with him. You fellows clearly did wrong in outstaying leave thatnight, but you had a fairly good excuse and if you'd had enough sense togo to faculty the next morning and explain you'd have all got off withonly a lecture, I guess. Your mistake was in not confessing. However, Idon't consider it my place to say anything. It's an old story now,anyhow. Be at the gym at three with your togs, Gilbert, and do your bestfor us from now on. I'm glad to have you back again. What I said thatafternoon you'd better forget. I'll show the school that I've changed mymind about you. I suppose I ought to make some sort of an apology,but----"

  "Please don't say anything more about it, sir," begged Don.

  "Well, I'll say this, Gilbert: You acted like a white man in taking yourmedicine and keeping the others out of trouble. You certainly deservecredit for that."

  "I don't see it," replied the boy. "I don't see what else I _could_ havedone, Mr. Robey!"

  The coach pondered a moment. Then he laughed. "I guess you're right, atthat! Just the same, you did what was square, Gilbert. All right, then.Three o'clock." He held out his hand and Don put his in it, and the twogripped firmly.

  Hurrying back to Main Hall, Don regretted only one thing, which was thathe had in a way broken his agreement with Walton to say nothing abouttheir bargain. Coach Robey, though, had pointed out that the agreementhad been terminable by either party to it, and that in confessing to himDon had been within his rights. "Walton can now go ahead and take thematter to faculty, as he threatened to do," said the coach. "Only, whenI get through talking to him I don't think he will care to!"

  And apparently he hadn't, for no dire summons reached Don from theoffice that day or the next, nor did he ever hear more of the matter.Walton displayed a retiring disposition that was new and novel. On suchinfrequent occasions as Don ran across him Walton failed to see him. Theday of the game the latter was in evidence with his father, mother andyounger brother; Don saw him making the rounds of the buildings withthem and he wondered in what manner Walton had accounted to his folksfor his absence from the football team. Walton stayed on at school, verylittle in evidence, until Christmas vacation, but when the fellowsreassembled after the recess he was not amongst them. Rumour had it thathe had been taken ill and would not be back. Rumour was proved partlyright, at all events, for Brimfield knew him no more.

  * * * * *

  The first and second teams held final practice on Thursday. The firstonly ran through signals for awhile, did some punting and catching andthen disappeared, leaving the second to play two fifteen-minute periodswith a team composed of their own second-string and the first team'sthird-string players. After that was over, the second winning withoutmuch effort, the audience, which had cheered and sung for the betterpart of an hour, marched back to the gymnasium and did it some more, andthe second team, cheering most enthusiastically for themselves and thefirst and the school and, last but by no means least, for Mr. Boutelle,joyously disbanded for the season.

  There was another mass-meeting that evening, an intensely fervid one,followed by a parade about the campus and a good deal of noise that wasfinally quelled by Mr. Fernald when, in response to demands, he appearedon the porch of the Cottage and made a five-minute speech which endedwith the excellent advice to return to hall and go to bed.

  The players didn't attend the meeting that night, nor were they on handat the one that took place the night following. Instead, they trottedand slithered around the gymnasium floor in rubber-soled shoes and wentthrough their entire repertoire of plays under the sharp eyes of CoachesRobey and Boutelle. There was a blackboard lecture, too, on eachevening, and when, at nine-thirty on Friday, they were dismissed, withpractice all over for the year, most of them were very glad to slideinto bed as quickly as possible. If any of them had "the jumps" thatnight it was after they were asleep, for the coach had tired them outsufficiently to make them forget that such things as nerves were a partof their system!

  But the next morning was a different matter. Those who had never gonethrough a Claflin contest were inclined to be finicky of appetite and togo off into trances with a piece of toast or a fork-full of potatopoised between plate and mouth. Even the more experienced fellowsshowed some indication of strain. Thursby, for instance, who had beenthree years on the first team as substitute or first-choice centre, whohad already taken some part in two Claflin games, and who was apparentlyfar too big and calm to be affected by nerves, showed a disposition totalk more than was natural.

  Don never really remembered at all clearly how that Saturday morningpassed. Afterward he had vague recollections of sitting in ClintTha
yer's room and hearing Amy Byrd rattle off a great deal ofnonsensical advice to him and Clint and Tim as to how to conductthemselves before the sacrifice (Amy had insisted that they should lineup and face the grand-stand before the game commenced, salute and recitethe immortal line of Claudius's gladiators: "_Morituri te salutant!_");of seeing Manager Jim Morton dashing about hither and thither, scowlingblackly under the weight of his duties; of wandering across to the woodsbeyond the baseball field with Tim Otis and Larry Jones and some othersand sitting on the stone wall there and watching Larry take acorns outof Tim's ears and nose; and, finally, of going through a perfectlyfarcical early dinner in a dining hall empty save for the members ofthe training-table. After that events stood out more clearly in hismemory.

  Claflin's hosts began to appear at about half-past one. They wore blueneckties and arm-bands or carried blue pennants which they had the goodtaste to keep furled while they wandered around the campus and pokedinquisitive heads into the buildings. Then the Claflin team, twenty-sixstrong, rolled up in two barges just before two, having taken theirdinner at the village inn, disembarked in front of Wendell and meanderedaround to the gymnasium laden with suit-cases and things lookinginsultingly care-free and happy, and, as it couldn't be denied,particularly husky!

  Don, observing from the steps of Torrence, wondered how they managed toappear so easy and careless. No one, as he confided to Tom Hall and Tim,would ever suspect that they were about to do battle for theBrimfield-Claflin championship!

  "Huh," said Tom, "that's nothing. That's the way we all do when we goaway to play. It's this sticking at home and having nothing to do but_think_ that takes the starch out of you. When you go off you feel as ifyou were on a lark. Things take your mind off your troubles. But, justthe same, a lot of those grinning dubs are doing a heap of worryingabout now. They aren't nearly as happy as they look!"

  "They're a lot happier than they're going to be about three hours fromnow," said Tim darkly. That struck the right note, and Tom and Donlaughed, and Tim laughed with them, and they all three put theirshoulders back and perked up a lot!

  And then it was two o'clock and they were pulling on their togs in thelocker-room; and Danny Moore was circulating about in very high spirits,cracking jokes and making them laugh, and Coach Robey was dispatchingJim Morton and Jim's assistant on mysterious errands and referring everylittle while to his red-covered memorandum book and looking veryuntroubled and serene. And then there was a clamping of feet on thestairs above and past the windows some two dozen pairs ofblue-stockinged legs moved briskly as the visitors went across to thefield for practice. And suddenly the noise was stilled and Coach Robeywas telling them that it was up to them now, and that they hadn't athing in the world to do for the next two hours but knock the tar out ofthose blue-clad fellows, and that they had a fine day for it! And then,laughing hard and cheering a little, they piled out and across thewarm, sunlit grass, past the line of fellow-students and home-folks andtowners, with here and there a pretty girl to glance shyly andadmiringly at them as they trotted by, and so to the bench. Nerves weregone now. They were only eager and impatient. "Squads out!" sang Mr.Robey. Off came sweaters and faded blankets and they were out on thegridiron, with Carmine and McPhee cheerily piping the signals, withtheir canvas legs rasping together as they trotted about, and with theBrimfield cheer sounding in their ears, making them feel a littlechokey, perhaps, but wonderfully strong and determined and proud!

  And presently they were back in front of the bench, laughing at andpummelling one another, and the rival captains and the referee werewatching a silver coin turn over and over in the sunlight out there bythe tee in midfield. Behind them the stand was packed and colourful.Beyond, Brimfield was cheering lustily again. Across the faded green, atthe end of the newly-brushed white lines, nearly a hundred Claflinyouths were waving their banners and cheering back confidently.

  "Claflin kicks off," sang Captain Edwards. "We take the west goal. Comeon, fellows! Everyone on the jump now!"

  A long-legged Claflin guard piled the dirt up into a six-inch cone, laidthe ball tenderly upon it, viewed the result, altered it, backed off andwaited.

  "All ready, Claflin? All ready, Brimfield?"

  The whistle blew.