Part 16 (1/2)

Morgan's came back hard in that last quarter and soon had the Maroon-and-Grey on the defensive. A fumbled punt by Carmine, who had taken Marvin's place a minute before, was secured by a Morgan's end and the aspect of the game changed very suddenly. The Orange-and-Blue was now in possession of the ball on Brimfield's twenty-six yards, and it was first down. Coach Robey rushed Hall and Churchill back to the line-up, evidently well weighted down with instructions, and, after a conference with cl.u.s.tered heads, Brimfield faced the enemy again.

Morgan's adopted old-style football with a vengeance and hurled her backs at the line between tackles. Twice she was stopped, but on a third attempt Brimfield broke squarely in two where Thursby was subst.i.tuting Captain Innes and half the visiting team piled through. First down was secured on another attack at the same place and the ball was on the defender's sixteen yards. Two yards more came past right tackle and two through centre--Morgan's had discovered the weakness of Thursby's defence--and the ten-yard line was almost underfoot. A conference ensued. Evidently some of the enemy were favouring a field-goal, but the quarter still held out for all the law would allow and a line-s.h.i.+ft was followed by a quick toss of the ball to one side of the field. Luckily for the home team, however, it was Steve Edwards' side that was chosen, and Edwards, while he was not quick enough to prevent the catch, stopped the runner for a yard gain. It was third down then, with the ball out of position for a field-goal and ten yards to a touchdown and the Brimfield supporters, urging their team to ”Hold 'em!” breathed easier.

”Fourth down! Five to go!” announced the referee.

”Stop 'em!” panted Marvin.

Then the Morgan's drop-kicker moved back to the twenty-yard line and well to the left of centre, and centre stood sidewise as though to make an oblique pa.s.s. It hardly seemed possible that Morgan's would attempt a goal from such an angle, but still there was but one down left and the Brimfield line, though it had yielded short gains, was not likely to give way to the enemy for the five yards necessary for a first down.

Captain Innes watched the Orange-and-Blue formation doubtfully, striving to guess what was to develop. In the end he scented a fake-kick and warned his line.

”Fake!” he shouted. ”Fake! Watch that ball! Get that end, Steve! Hold 'em, hold 'em, Brimfield!”

And Brimfield held them. At least, Brimfield held all but one of them.

It was unfortunate that that one should have been the one who had the ball! Just what really happened was a matter of discussion for many days. It occurred so suddenly, with such an intricate mingling of backs and forwards, that Brimfield was unable then or later to fathom the play. Even from the side line, where Coach Robey and a dozen or more subst.i.tutes looked on intently, that play was puzzling. All that seemed clear then or afterwards was that the ball did actually go to the drop-kicker, that that youth swung his leg in the approved fas.h.i.+on, that one of the backs--some said the quarter, while others said one of the halves--ran back and took the pigskin at a hand-pa.s.s, and that subsequently a tackle who had played on the end of the line was seen tearing across the goal line well toward the other side of the field.

There had undoubtedly been a lateral pa.s.s, perhaps two, but the Morgan's players had so surrounded the play that the whole thing was as unfathomable as it was mysterious and as mysterious as it was unexpected. The one fact that stood out very, very clearly was that the enemy had scored a touchdown. And, although she afterwards failed to kick the goal, she had accomplished enough to humble Brimfield. In the two minutes remaining the home team played desperately, trying its hardest to secure the ball and get away for a run. But the visitors refused to yield possession and the whistle sounded a defeat for the Maroon-and-Grey.

”I think,” said Manager Black to Quarter-back Marvin as they met at the entrance to the gymnasium, ”I'll take a walnut sundae.”

What Quarter-back Marvin replied to Manager Black was both impolite and forceful.

CHAPTER XII

PENNY LOSES HIS TEMPER

What annoyed Brimfield Academy most about that beating was the fact that Morgan's School was a stranger. Being defeated in early season was nothing to be sore about; it happened every year, sometimes several times; and the score of 6 to 3 was far from humiliating; but to be defeated by a team that no one had ever heard about was horribly annoying. Of course Tracey Black insisted to all who would listen that Morgan's, instead of being unknown to fame, was in reality a strong team with a fine record behind it and an enviable reputation in its own part of the world. But Tracey didn't convince anyone, I think, and the school continued to be disgruntled for the better part of a week, or possibly until the Varsity went away the following Sat.u.r.day and won a clean-cut victory from Benton Military Academy. Last year the two schools had played a no-score tie game and consequently the Maroon-and-Grey's victory this year was more appreciated.

Meanwhile Marvin had settled his wager at the village soda fountain and had listened with commendable patience to Tracey's ”I-told-you-so”

remarks. All that Marvin said was, when Tracey had rubbed it in sufficiently: ”There's just one thing you want to do, Tracey, and that is get a date with those guys for next year. I won't be here, but it'll do me a whole lot of good to hear that we have rammed that old touchdown down their throats with one or two more for good measure.”

”Say, you're not sore or anything, are you?” laughed Tracey.

”Never you mind. I can take a licking as well as the next chap, but when a team works a sleight-of-hand gag on you, that's something different yet!”

”I'll bet anything!” said Steve Edwards, ”that they had two b.a.l.l.s that day! If they didn't, I'm blessed if I can see how they got that one across the field there.”

”Maybe that chap who made the touchdown had a string tied to it,”

suggested Still. ”That wouldn't be a bad scheme, eh?”

”I don't know how they did it,” said Marvin soberly, setting down his empty gla.s.s with a last fond look, ”but if you take my advice, Tracey, you'll have it understood next year that there's to be no miracles!”

Clint regretted that defeat, but it didn't affect his spirits any. As a matter of fact, Clint had reached a state of second team patriotism that precluded his being heart-broken about anything save a humiliating beating of the second. And most of the other members of Mr. Boutelle's const.i.tuency felt the same way. It was regrettable to have the school team worsted, but the main thing in life was the glory of the second. If Coach Robey had suggested that Clint should throw in his lot with the 'varsity just then Clint might have felt flattered but he would probably have gently and firmly declined the promotion. ”Boots,” in short, had in a bare fortnight endowed his charges with an enthusiasm and _esprit de corps_ that was truly remarkable. ”Anyone would think,” said Amy one day when Clint had been singing the praises of the second team, ”that you dubs were the only football players in school. Ever hear of the 'varsity team, Clint? Of course I may be mistaken, but I've been given to understand that they have one or two fairly good men on the 'varsity.”

Clint grinned. ”That's what _they_ tell you, Amy!”

”Well, of all the sw.a.n.k!” exclaimed the other incredulously.

”What's that?”