Part 4 (1/2)
”Yes; he's played only two years, and they say he's going into the Yale Law School next year. If he does, of course he'll get on the team there.
Well, I hope he'll take pity on two ambitious but unprotected freshmen and--”
There was a knock at the study door and Paul jumped forward and threw it open. A tall youth of twenty-one or twenty-two years of age stood in the doorway.
”I'm looking for Mr. Gale and Mr. Fletcher. Have I hit it right?”
”I'm Gale,” answered Paul, ”and that's Fletcher. Won't you come in?” The visitor entered.
”My name's Devoe,” he explained smilingly. ”I'm captain of the football team this year, and as you two fellows are, of course, going to try for the team, I thought we'd better get acquainted.” He accepted the squeaky rocking-chair and allowed Paul to take his straw hat. Neil thought he'd ought to shake hands, but as Devoe made no move in that direction he retired to another seat and grinned hospitably instead.
”I've heard of the good work you chaps did for Hillton last year, and I was mighty glad when I learned from Gardiner that you were coming up here.”
”You know Gardiner?” asked Neil.
”No, I've never met him, but of course every football man knows who he is. He wrote to me in the spring that you were coming, and rather intimated that if I knew my business I'd keep an eye on you and see that you didn't get lost in the shuffle. So here I am.”
”He didn't say anything about having written,” pondered Neil.
”Oh, he wouldn't,” answered Devoe. ”Well, how do you like us as far as you've seen us?”
”We only got here yesterday,” replied Paul. ”I think it looks like rather a jolly sort of place; awfully pretty, you know, and--er--historic.”
”Yes, it is pretty; historic too; and it's the finest young college in the country, bar none,” answered Devoe. ”You'll like it when you get used to it. I like it so well I wish I wasn't going to leave it in the spring. Very cozy quarters you have here.” He looked about the study.
”They'll do,” answered Neil modestly. ”Of course we couldn't get rooms in the Yard, and we liked this as well as anything we saw outside. The view's rather good from the windows.”
”Yes, I know; you have the common and pretty much the whole college in sight; it is good.” Devoe brought his gaze back and fixed it on Neil.
”You played left half, didn't you?”
”Yes.”
”What's your weight?”
”I haven't weighed this summer,” answered Neil. ”In the spring I was a hundred and sixty-two.”
”Good. We need some heavy backs. How about you, Gale?”
”About a hundred and sixty.”
”Of course I haven't seen the new material yet,” continued Devoe, ”but the last year's men we have are a bit light, take them all around.
That's what beat us, you see; Robinson had an unusually heavy line and rather heavy backs. They plowed through us without trouble.”
Neil studied the football captain with some interest. He saw a tall and fairly heavy youth, with well-set head and broad shoulders. He looked quite as fast on his feet as rumor credited him with being, and his dark eyes, sharp and steady in their regard, suggested both courage and ability to lead. His other features were strong, the nose a trifle heavy, the mouth usually unsmiling, the chin determined, and the forehead, set off by carefully brushed dark-brown hair, high and broad.
After the first few moments of conversation Devoe devoted his attention princ.i.p.ally to Neil, questioning him regarding Gardiner's coaching methods, about Neil's experience on the gridiron, as to what studies he was taking up. Occasionally he included Paul in the conversation, but that youth discovered, with surprise and chagrin, that he was apparently of much less interest to Devoe than was Neil. After a while he dropped out of the talk altogether, save when directly appealed to, and sat silent with an expression of elaborate unconcern. At the end of half an hour Devoe arose.
”I must be getting on,” he announced. ”I'm glad we've had this talk, and I hope you'll both come over some evening and call on me; I'm in Morris, No. 8. We've got our work cut out this fall, and I hope we'll all pull together.” He smiled across at Paul, evidently unaware of having neglected that young gentleman in his conversation. ”Good-night. Four o'clock to-morrow is the hour.”
”I never met any one that could ask more questions than he can,”