The Second Chance

  CHAPTER XVIII

  THE LACROSSE MATCH

  What's come of old Bill Lindsay and the Saxhorn fellers, say? I want to hear the old band play.

  _----James Whitcomb Riley._

  THE great event of the Pioneers' Picnic was the lacrosse matchbetween Millford and Hillsboro. It was held at three o'clock in theafternoon, and everybody was there.

  The Millford lacrosse boys were in serious financial difficulty--"everything gone but their honour," as one sentimental member had putit, and if the columns of the Hillsboro Gazette were to be trusted,that was gone, too. But in the big game on this occasion they hopedto retrieve their fallen fortunes.

  Everybody felt that the real business of the day had begun when thetwo lacrosse teams drew up on the field. The women had finished theirclearing up after dinner, and piled rhubarb leaves on their basketsto keep the eatables cool for supper.

  Bud Perkins and Teddy Watson were playing for Millford, and Mrs.Perkins, Mrs. Watson, and Aunt Kate were in a pleasurable state ofexcitement, though they told the other women over and over thatlacrosse was a dangerous game, and they did not want the boys toplay. Mrs. Breen, too, whose son Billy was Millford's trusty forward,experienced a thrill of motherly pride when she heard the crowdbreaking into cheers as the Millford boys in their orange and blackjerseys lined up on the field.

  Pearl had gathered up her four brothers after dinner and washed themclean at the river, also made repairs on their drooping stockings andtwisted collars, and, holding tight to Danny, marshalled them acrossthe end of the field to where Arthur and Martha sat with Jim andCamilla, and Tom Motherwell and Nellie Slater.

  Dr. Clay came driving around the end of the field. When he saw Pearlhe stopped and asked her if she would come and sit in his buggy towatch the game.

  "I can't leave the boys, thank you, doctor," she said; "there's beenthree of them lost since noon, and they've all got their good clotheson."

  "Well, of course, we'll have to keep track of them, in that case," hesaid, smiling, "because it would be a real loss to lose them, clothesand all. I tell you what we'll do, Pearl. I'll give you the horse andbuggy--pile them all in, and it will be the easiest way of mindingthem."

  The doctor drove to a clear space where the boys would have a goodview of the game, and then went away to get a bag of peanuts forthem.

  In the centre of the field the referee placed the ball between BudPerkins's stick and McLaren's, of Hillsboro. There was a moment ofintense excitement and then away went the ball toward Hillsboro'sgoal, half a dozen in pursuit. The whole field was alive with blackand orange, blue and white, legs and arms and sticks darting in andout in a way that would make your eyes ache to follow them. Once theball came to the side, causing a receding wave of fluttering muslin.Mrs. Maxwell, whose son had that shade of hair which is supposed toindicate a hasty temper, was shouting directions to him as loudly asshe could. Mrs. Maxwell's directions were good ones, too, if Aleccould only have followed them. "Shoot, Alec!" she called. "Shoot itin! Run, Alec! Shoot it in!"

  Millford's only lawyer, the dignified and stately Mr. Hawkins, camemajestically down the line, carrying a camp stool under his arm. Hehad found it necessary to change his position, incensed at theundignified behaviour of the Hillsboro girls, who had taken up theirposition on one side of the field and were taking a lively interestin the game. He had ventured a slight rebuke, whereupon the wholebattery of their indignation had been trained on him, with the resultthat he withdrew hastily. He sat down just in front of Mrs. Perkinsand Mrs. Watson, and began to take an interest in the game. The ballwas near Millford's goal and a scrimmage was taking place, a solidknot of players that moved and writhed and twisted.

  Suddenly Bud Perkins shot out from the others, carrying his stickhigh above his head as he, raced up the field. "Bud! Bud! Bud!"Millford cried in an ecstasy of hope and fear. He sprang, dodged,whirled, the whole field in pursuit, and then, when in line withHillsboro's goal, he shot low and swift and sure!

  A great cheer burst from the crowd, hats were thrown in the air,little boys turned handsprings, and Millford went stark, staring mad.

  Mrs. Perkins was not naturally an excitable woman, and she looked thevery soul of meekness in her respectable black dress and little blackbonnet tied tightly under her chin, but if your only boy--the onlyliving out of three--your boy that had been real delicate and hard toraise--if he had dodged the whole field and shot a goal, straight asa die, and the whole town were cheering for him, mad with joy, youmight have been roused a bit, too. When Mrs. Perkins came to herselfshe was pounding her parasol on the broad, dignified shoulders ofMillford's most stately citizen, Mr. E. Cuthbert Hawkins, who movedaway rather haughtily.

  Over near the lemonade booth, Bud's father was explaining to aninterested group just how Bud came to be such a smart boy.

  "Young Bud has never worked the way his dad did," he said. "I ain'tlike some men that rob the cradle for farm hands and puts little ladsbuilding roads when they are so small they have to be weighted downwith stones in their pockets to keep them from blowin' away. YoungBud has run in the pasture all his life, you may say, and it would bequeer if he hadn't some speed in him. He comes of pretty good stock,let me tell you, registered in every strain, if I do say it. Look atthat for a well-rounded leg!" Mr. Perkins made it easy for every oneto do so. "Eighteen inches around the calf, and tapered to the toe!"He patted it lovingly. "I tell you, there was action there a fewyears ago!"

  Meanwhile the play went on faster than ever. Hillsboro scored a goalthrough the Millford goal-keeper's stick breaking, and the scorestood one to one until within fifteen minutes of the time. TheMillford boys were plainly nervous. Victory meant the districtchampionship, and confusion to their enemies.

  The game was close and hard--no long throws--every inch contested--ithad ceased to be a game, it was a battle! One minute the ball wentclose to Millford's goal and Mrs. Watson and Mrs. Perkins clutchedeach other's hands in wordless dread; but the wiry form of TeddyWatson shot up in the air and the ball bounced back into the Millfordcaptain's stick. As he ran along the edge of the crowd with it, oneof the Hillsboro girls slashed at him viciously with her red parasol.The captain passed the ball safely to Alec Maxwell, whose red hairmade him a shining mark for the Hillsboro girls. But Sandy was not abit disconcerted by their remarks. Big Dave Hunter, his check, wasafter him. Big Dave was a powerfully built fellow with a chest like aClyde and a cheerful expanse of freckles. As Alec Maxwell threw theball to Bud Perkins, Big Dave's long reach intercepted it, and thenhe made one of those grand rushes for which he was known and dreadedby his opponents, and which are still remembered by the old boys whoplayed the game. This time Dave's good old trick miscarried, forTeddy Watson, slender as he was, neatly body-checked him--the ballfell from his stick into that of Alec Maxwell, who, boring his waythrough the Hillsboro defence, shot on goal and scored.

  The home crowd went wild with cheers, for time was up, and the scorestood two to one in Millford's favour. Thomas Perkins was hilarious."Come on, John!" he said to John Watson, "let's have a littleSchlitz. I never take anything stronger now, since the boy grew up.What! You don't drink Schlitz? It's harmless as hay-tea, but perhapsyou're right."