CHAPTER XX
JOINING THE LEAGUE
They had to carry Dick off the field, but there was a happy smile on hisface in spite of the terrible pain of his injured ankle.
"Only one touchdown and a goal against us, and the best team Haskellcould put in the field, fellows!" exulted the plucky captain. "It'salmost as good as a victory."
"There could be no more honorable defeat," murmured Coach Martin.
"I should say not!" exclaimed his colleague. "Our work hasn't gone fornothing."
"Let me congratulate you, Captain Hamilton!" cried the captain ofHaskell, as he strode up to shake Dick's hand. "We sure thought we wouldwipe up the earth with you, but--well, we were astonished, to put itmildly."
"We'll beat you next time," said Dick simply.
"I shouldn't be surprised but what you did," he agreed. "You certainlyhave improved wonderfully. Where'd you get those coaches?" for the twohad walked on in advance.
"Oh, they were a sort of an experiment," answered the youngmillionaire, "but it worked out all right. Kentfield needed someimprovement and----"
"She's more than got it!" cried the other captain. "Boys, three cheersfor the pluckiest team we ever went up against!" he called, and how thecries rang out; bringing joy and a mist of tears to the eyes of ourinjured hero.
"Three cheers for Haskell!" called Dick in return, and the complimentwas given.
"We'd have scored again but for that plucky tackle of yours, and yourkick," said the guard whom Dick had thrown in the nick of time. "Hurtyourself much?"
"No, it's only where I twisted my ankle before. I'll be all right in afew days, and ready for more games."
The crowd was thronging from the field, as Dick was carried into thedressing room. There some hot applications, and skillful bandaging, puthis ankle in such shape that he could manage to get around on a canethat some one provided.
"It was great! Great, old man!" cried Paul, circling in delight abouthis chum. "I never thought we could do it. Did you really think we wouldwin? I hope you're not disappointed."
"Only a little," admitted Dick. "I hoped we might win up to the time Isaw their team come out on the field. Then I knew they were too much forus. But we held them down!"
"Indeed we did."
"And the next thing to do is to get into the Military League, and wipeout the unnecessary insult that Blue Hill handed to us, by giving themthe worst drubbing they ever had."
"Sure," assented Paul.
There was quite a crowd of hero-worshippers outside the dressing rooms,waiting to get a sight of Dick and his men, and cheer them. Among thethrong our hero espied a pretty face he knew, and straightway he madefor it as well as he was able.
"Congratulations!" called Miss Hanford. "Oh, it was a glorious game! butI'm so sorry you were hurt."
"It's nothing," murmured Dick gamely, though as he spoke a spasm of painshot through him.
There were not a few on the hospital list as a result of theHaskell-Kentfield game and in view of that, and the great work that hadbeen done, practice was omitted for a few days. When it was resumed itwas light, for there were several of the best players, besides thecaptain, to be considered, and good men were scarce.
On all sides among the various groups of cadets there was heard nothingbut praise for Dick's team. Only one little crowd had anythingunpleasant to say, and this was the faction headed by Porter.
"If Porter had played there wouldn't have been so many gains around leftend," said one of the rich lad's cronies.
"That's right," added Weston. "Porter was our mainstay before he gotput off by Hamilton's influence."
"Who says by Dick's influence?" demanded Paul Drew hotly.
"I do!"
"Then you don't know what you're talking about, and I advise you not torepeat it," spoke Dick's chum grimly, and Weston slunk away.
But what little feeling there was died away in the memory of theglorious game that had been played, and even some of the instructorswere enough interested in athletics to congratulate Dick and his chums.
"What's the next move?" asked Paul of his roommate, as they sat in theprecincts of the Sacred Pig one night, talking over matters of thegridiron.
"Well, we ought to join the Military League, I think. We are practicallyout of it through the refusal of Blue Hill to accept our challenge, andI presume we'll have to join over again," was the opinion of Dutton.
"That's right!" cried Dick.
"Will they let us in?" asked George Hall.
"They'll have to," was what Manager Hatfield said. "I am going to have aconsultation with the coaches to-morrow, and we'll decide on what to do.If we are admitted, as I have no doubt we will be, we'll challenge BlueHill Academy again."
A correspondence was at once begun with the necessary officers of theleague, and it was carried on to such advantage that inside of a weekKentfield was formally notified of her election to the organization.This was composed of several military academies, as I have said, and thewinning of the football championship carried with it the possession of agold loving cup.
Hard practice was the rule for the next few days, and then came a gamewith Mooretown which Kentfield won. The next week she played a smallteam, not in the league, and the week following came a contest withRichmore, one of the tail-enders of the league. This resulted in a bigvictory for Kentfield, and further advanced her prestige.
"Have you challenged Blue Hill yet?" asked Dick of the manager one day.
"I'm going to this week. I think we've won our spurs now. How is yourankle, if we do play?"
"Fine as a fiddle. I've taken the bandage off. Oh, we'll play for ourlives when we meet those fellows!"
Blue Hill could now have no reason for refusing to meet Kentfield, andthough they offered no apology for their former sarcastic letter, theyaccepted the challenge.
Dick was with Manager Hatfield when the answering missive was received.
"That's the stuff!" cried the young millionaire. "Now we'll practiceharder than ever."
Toots, the janitor, approached our hero, whistling "In the Prison Cell ISit." He saluted and seemed to want to say something.
"What is it?" asked Dick.
"I've just got word, Mr. Hamilton, that your dog Grit has beenarrested--or, that is, taken to the pound for going about without hislicense tag on, which is against the law," said the janitor.
"Grit taken to the pound! Who did it?" cried Dick.
"Some fellow by the name of Duncaster," was the unexpected reply. "Hehad a policeman take the dog in, and you have to pay ten dollars to gethim out. Half of it goes to that Duncaster man for causing the dog to betaken in."
"Duncaster!" murmured Dick. "He's fighting us all along the line! I'mgoing to town!" he called to a group of his chums who had gathered abouthim.
"I'll go with you," and Paul hastened after his friend.