Behind the Line: A Story of College Life and Football

  CHAPTER XIV

  MAKES A CALL

  Despite Neil's absence from Erskine Field, preparation for the crowningconflict of the year went on with vigor and enthusiasm. The ranks of thecoaches were swelled from day to day by patriotic alumni, some of whomwere of real help, others of whom merely stood around in what Devoecalled their "store clothes" and looked wonderfully wise. Some came tostay and took up quarters in the village, but the most merely tarriedovernight, and, having unburdened themselves to Mills and Devoe of muchadvice, went away again, well pleased with their devotion to alma mater.

  The signals in use during the preliminary season had now been discardedin favor of the more complicated system prepared for the "big game."Each day there was half an hour of secret practise behind closed gates,after which the assistant coaches emerged looking very wise and verysolemn. The make-up of the varsity eleven had changed not a little sincethe game with Woodby, and was still being changed. Some positions were,however, permanently filled. For instance, Browning had firmlyestablished his right to play left-guard, while the deposed Carey founda role eminently suited to him at right tackle. Stowell became firstchoice for center, and the veteran Graham went over to the second team.Stone at left end, Tucker at left tackle, Devoe at right end, and Fosterat quarter, were fixtures.

  The problem of finding a man for the position of left half in place ofNeil had finally been solved by moving Paul over there from the otherside and giving his place to Gillam, a last year substitute. Paul'sstyle of play was very similar to Neil's. He was sure on his feet, ahard, fast runner, and his line-plunging was often brilliant andeffective. The chief fault with him was that he was erratic. One day heplayed finely, the next so listlessly as to cause the coaches to shaketheir heads. His goal-kicking left something to be desired, but as yethe was as good in that line as any save Neil. Gillam, although light,was a hard line-bucker and a hurdler that was afraid of nothing. In facthe gave every indication of excelling Paul by the time the Robinsongame arrived.

  One cause of Paul's uneven playing was the fact that he was worriedabout his studies. He was taking only the required courses, seven inall, making necessary an attendance of sixteen hours each week; butGreek and mathematics were stumbling-blocks, and he was in daily fearlest he find himself forbidden to play football. He knew well enoughwhere the trouble lay; he simply didn't give enough time to study. But,somehow, what with the all-absorbing subject of making the varsity andthe hundred and one things that took up his time, the hours remainingfor "grinding" were all too few. He wondered how Neil, who seemed quiteas busy as himself, managed to give so much time to books.

  In one of his weekly evening talks to the football men Mills hadstrongly counseled attention to study. There was no excuse, he hadasserted, for any of the candidates shirking lessons.

  "On the contrary, the fact that you are in training, that you are livingwith proper regard for sleep, good food, fresh air, and plenty of hardphysical work, should and does make you able to study better. In myexperience, I am glad to say, I have known not one football captain whodid not stand among the first few in his class; and that same experiencehas proved to me that, almost without exception, students who go in forathletics are the best scholars. Healthful exercise and sensible livinggo hand in hand with scholarly attainment. I don't mean to say thatevery successful student has been an athlete, but I do say that almostevery athlete has been a successful student. And now that we understandeach other in this matter, none of you need feel any surprise if, shouldyou get into difficulties with the faculty over your studies, I refuse,as I shall, to intercede in your behalf. I want men to deal with who arehonest, hard-working athletes, and honest, hard-working students. My ownexperience and that of other coachers with whom I have talked, provesthat the brilliant football player or crew man who sacrifices classstanding for his athletic work may do for a while, but in the end is alosing investment."

  And on top of that warning Paul had received one afternoon a printedpostal card, filled in here and there with the pen, which wasas follows:

  "Erskine College, _November 4, 1901_.

  "Mr. Paul Gale.

  "Dear Sir: You are requested to call on the Dean, Tuesday, November 5th,during the regular office hours.

  "Yours respectfully,

  "Ephraim Levett, _Dean_."

  Paul obeyed the mandate with sinking heart. When he left the office itwas with a sensation of intense relief and with a resolve to applyhimself so well to his studies as to keep himself and the Deanthereafter on the merest bowing acquaintance. And he was, thus far,living up to his resolution; but as less than a week had gone by,perhaps his self-gratulation was a trifle early. It may be that Cowanalso was forced to confer with the Dean at about that time, for he tooshowed an unusual application to text-books, and as a result he and Paulsaw each other less frequently.

  On November 6th, one week after Neil's accident and just two weeks priorto the Robinson game, Erskine played Arrowden, and defeated her 11-0.Neil, however, did not witness that contest, for, at the invitation ofand in company with Devoe, he journeyed to Collegetown and watchedRobinson play Artmouth. Devoe had rather a bad knee, and was nursing itagainst the game with Yale at New Haven the following Saturday. Two ofthe coaches were also of the party, and all were eager to get an inklingof the plays that Robinson was going to spring on Erskine. But Robinsonwas reticent. Perhaps her coaches discovered the presence of the Erskineemissaries. However that may have been, her team used ordinaryformations instead of tackle-back, and displayed none of the trickswhich rumor credited her with having up her sleeve. But the Erskineparty saw enough, nevertheless, to persuade them one and all that thePurple need only expect defeat, unless some way of breaking up thetackle-back play was speedily discovered. Robinson's line was heavy, andcomposed almost altogether of last year material. Artmouth found itwell-nigh impregnable, and Artmouth's backs were reckoned good men.

  "If we had three more men in our line as heavy and steady as Browning,Cowan, and Carey," said Devoe, "we might hope to get our backs through;but, as it is, they'll get the jump on us, I fear, and tear up ouroffense before it gets agoing."

  "The only course," answered one of the coaches, "is to get to work andput starch into the line as well as we can, and to perfect the backs atkicking and running. Luckily that close-formation has the merit ofconcealing the point of attack until it's under way, and it's justpossible that we'll manage to fool them."

  And so Jones and Mills went to work with renewed vigor the next day. Butthe second team, playing tackle-back after the style of Robinson'swarriors, was too much for any defense that the varsity could put up,and got its distance time after time. The coaches evolved and triedseveral plays designed to stop it, but none proved really successful.

  Neil returned to practise that afternoon, his right shoulder protectedby a wonderful leather contrivance which was the cause of muchgood-natured fun. He didn't get near the line-up, however, but wasallowed to take part in signal practise, and was then set to kickinggoals from placement. If the reader will button his right arm inside hiscoat and try to kick a ball with accuracy he will gain some slight ideaof the difficulty which embarrassed Neil. When work was over he felt asthough he had been trying, he declared, to kick left-handed. But he metwith enough success to demonstrate that, given opportunity for practise,one may eventually learn to kick goals minus anything except feet.

  That happened to be one of Paul's "off days," and the way he playedexasperated the coaches and alarmed him. He could not hide from himselfthe evident fact that Gillam was outplaying him five days a week. Withthe return of Neil, Paul expected to be ousted from the position of lefthalf, and the question that worried him was whether he would in turndisplace Gillam or be sent back to the second eleven. He was safe,however, for several days more, for Simson still laughed at Neil'sdemand to be put into the line-up, and he was determined that before theYale game he would prove himself superior to Gillam.

  The following morning, Friday, Mills was seated at the desk in his r
oommaking out a list of players who were to participate in the Robinsongame. According to the agreement between the rival colleges such listswere required to be exchanged not later than two weeks prior to thecontest. The players had been decided upon the evening before by all thecoaches in assembly, and his task this morning was merely to recopy thelist before him. He had almost completed the work when he heard strangesounds outside his door. Then followed a knock, and, in obedience to hisrequest, Sydney Burr pushed open the door and swung himself in onhis crutches.

  The boy's face was alight with eagerness, and his eyes sparkled withexcitement; there was even a dash of color in his usually pale cheeks.Mills jumped up and wheeled forward an easy-chair. But Sydney paid noheed to it.

  "Mr. Mills," he cried exultantly, "I think I've got it!"

  "Got what?" asked the coach.

  "The play we want," answered Sydney, "the play that'll stop Robinson!"