Part 2 (2/2)
Neil jumped to his feet. A burst of martial music swept up to them as the school band, followed by a host of their fellows, turned the corner of the building.
”Come on, Paul,” he cried; ”get your coat on. Mr. Brill will excuse us if we leave him; we mustn't keep the fellows waiting. And we can think the matter over, eh, Paul? And we'll let him know in the morning. Here's your coat. Good-night, sir, good-night.” He was holding the door open and smiling politely. Paul, scowling, arose and shook hands with the Robinson emissary. Neil kept up a steady stream of talk, and his chum could only mutter vague words about his pleasure at Mr. Brill's call and about seeing him to-morrow. When the door had closed behind him the coach stood a moment in the hall and thoughtfully b.u.t.toned his coat.
”I think I've got Gale all right,” he said to himself, ”but”--with a slight smile--”the other chap was too smart for me. And, confound him, he's just the sort we need!”
When he reached the entrance he was obliged to elbow his way through a solid throng of shouting youths who with excited faces and waving caps and flags informed the starlight winter sky over and over that they wanted Gale and Fletcher, to which demand the band lent hearty if rather discordant emphasis.
A good deal happened in the next two hours, but nothing that is pertinent to this narrative. Victorious Hillton elevens have been hauled through the village and out to the field many times in past years, and bonfires have flared and speeches have been made by players and faculty, and all very much as happened on this occasion. Neil and Paul returned to their room at ten o'clock, tired, happy, with the cheers and the songs still echoing in their ears.
Paul had apparently forgotten his resentment toward Neil and the whole matter of Brill's proposition. But Neil hadn't, and presently, when they were preparing for bed, he returned doggedly to the charge.
”When did you meet that fellow Brill?” he asked.
”In Gardiner's room this morning; he introduced us.” Paul began to look sulky again. ”Seems a decent sort, I think,” he added defiantly. Neil accepted the challenge.
”I dare say,” he answered carelessly. ”There's only one thing I've got against him.”
”What's that?” questioned Paul suspiciously.
”His errand.”
”What's wrong with his errand?”
”Everything, Paul. You know as well as I that his offer is--well, it's shady, to say the least. Who ever heard of a decent college offering free tutoring in order to get fellows for its football team?”
”Lots of them do,” growled Paul.
”No, they don't; not decent ones. Some do, I know; but they're not colleges a fellow cares to go to. Every one knows what rotten shape Robinson athletics are in; the papers have been full of it for two years. Their center rush this fall, Harden, just went there to play on the team, and everybody says that he got his tuition free. You don't want to play on a team like that and have people say things like that about you. I'm sure I don't.”
”Oh, you!” sneered Paul. ”You're getting crankier and crankier every day. I'll bet you're just huffy because Brill didn't ask you first.”
Neil flushed, but kept his temper.
”You don't think anything of the sort, Paul. Besides--”
”It looks that way,” muttered Paul.
”Besides,” continued Neil calmly, ”what's the advantage in going to Robinson? We've arranged everything; we've got our rooms picked out at Erskine; there are lots of fellows there we know; the college is the best of its cla.s.s and its athletics are honest. If you play on the Erskine team you'll be somebody, and folks won't hint that you're receiving money or free scholars.h.i.+ps or something for doing it. And as for Brill's guarantee of a place on the team, why, there's only one decent way to get on a football team, and that's by good, hard work; and there's no reason for doubting that you'll make the Erskine varsity eleven.”
”Yes, there is, too,” answered Paul angrily. ”They've got lots of good players at Erskine, and you and I won't stand any better show than a dozen others.”
”I don't want to.”
”Huh! Well, I do; that is, I want to make the team. Besides, as Brill said, if a fellow has the faculty after him all the time about studies he can't do decent work on the team. I don't see anything wrong in it, and--and I'm going. I'll tell Brill so to-morrow!”
Neil drew his bath-robe about him, and looked thoughtfully into the flames. So far he had lost, but he had one more card to play. He turned and faced Paul's angry countenance.
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