Part 14 (2/2)
CHAPTER XI
”HOLD 'EM, THIRD!”
The term was a fortnight old when Thacher went down in defeat, 10 to 3, and by that time both Steve and Tom had made acquaintances here and there, and so when, after study hour that Sat.u.r.day night, Steve announced carelessly that he was ”going around to Hensey to see a fellow,” Tom took it for granted that his chum was off to look up some new friend. Perhaps, since they usually made calls together, he wondered a little that Steve didn't ask him along, but he didn't mind being left out on this particular occasion since he was having a good deal of trouble just then with trigonometry and wanted to put in more time on Monday's lesson.
When Steve entered Hensey he pa.s.sed into the first corridor and knocked on the door of Number 7. The card there held the names: ”Andrew Loring Miller--Hatherton Williams.” A voice bade him enter and Steve walked in.
Andy Miller and his room-mate were both in, Andy sprawled on the window-seat, which was much too short for his long body, and Williams seated at the study table. Andy jumped up as the visitor entered.
”Glad to see you, Edwards,” he said cordially. ”Shake hands with Williams. Hat, this is Edwards of the fourth. Sit down, won't you?”
Williams, who was a heavy, dark-complexioned youth of eighteen with a flat nose and a broad mouth, shook hands politely, murmuring something that Steve took to mean that he was pleased to meet him, and sank back to his seat. Steve took the easy-chair that Andy pushed forward.
”Well, how are you?” asked the football captain genially. ”Haven't run across any more confidence-men, I hope.”
Steve smiled none too heartily and cast a glance toward Williams. But the latter's blank expression showed that the allusion meant nothing to him and proved that, as far as Williams was concerned, Miller had kept his promise of secrecy.
”No, not yet,” answered Steve. ”I thought I'd just drop in a minute and call.”
”Of course. Glad you did. How's your friend?”
”Tom! He's fine, thanks. I--he wasn't through studying, so I didn't wait for him.”
”And how's football going?” asked Andy. ”Getting on pretty well?”
”I think so. Not so very well, though. I--I don't seem to please Marvin very well with tackling.”
”Oh, you'll get onto that all right,” said Andy cheerfully. ”Fact is, I don't think a fellow ever really learns much at the dummy. It's dumping a chap in real playing that shows you what's wanted. Don't you think so, Hat?”
”Dummy practice is a good thing,” answered Williams morosely.
He sat tilted back on the chair, hands in pockets, staring at the floor.
He seemed a gloomy sort of fellow, Steve thought, and was relieved when Williams added: ”Guess I'll run over to Johnny's for a minute,” and, muttering something about being glad to have met the visitor, found a cap and wandered out.
”I suppose,” said Steve, when the door had closed, ”it's necessary for a fellow to learn how to tackle, but it seems to me that if you aren't awfully good at it you might get a chance to show what you can do besides that.”
”I guess I don't quite understand what you mean,” responded Andy.
”I mean that if I can't tackle the dummy well enough to please Marvin,”
answered Steve a trifle bitterly, ”I do as well as lots of other fellows, and--and it doesn't seem fair to keep me back just for that.
Lots of fellows have been taken on to the second squad that can't play as well as I can, Miller.”
”Oh! I see.” Andy's eyes narrowed a little and he looked at Steve more intently. ”You mean that you aren't getting a fair show, Edwards?”
”It doesn't seem so to me. I played with my high school team for two years at left end and--and did pretty well. Of course, I don't say that I'm as good as some of the fellows here, but I do think that I'm as good as--as a lot of them; and a heap better than three or four that have gone to the second squad lately. I don't get a chance to show what I can do where I am now, Miller. Marvin doesn't even let me into signal drill more than half the time, and then he puts me at half or tackle and I've never played either of those places. And when I told him so the other day he just laughed and said that one place was as good as another on the third! And he rags me every day about my tackling and--and I don't think it's fair! If he will give me a chance I'll pick up tackling all right. You say yourself that a fellow learns it more from playing than from dummy work.”
”So I did,” said Andy thoughtfully. Then, after a moment: ”Look here, Edwards, I think you've got a wrong idea in your head. If Marvin isn't satisfied with your tackling, it's because you don't do it right.
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