Up the steps he passed, a disk of color in each cheek, looking neither to right nor left, and passed from sight. As he did so, the chorus changed to a good-humored laugh of approval. Ned made inquiry of a youth beside him.
Day boy, was the explanation. There are ten of them, you know: fellows who live in town. We always give them a welcome. That chap had spunk, but you wait and see some of them!
Two more followed together, and, each upheld in that moment of trial by the presence of the other, passed through the ordeal with flying colors. But the twins noted that the laughing applause was lacking. After that, the remaining seven arrived almost on each others heels and the air was filled with Heps! Some looked only surprised, others angry; but most of then grinned in a sickly, embarrassed way and went by with hanging heads.
Sort of tough, was Neds verdict, and Laurie agreed as they followed the last victim inside.
It looks as if day students werent popular, he added.
Later, though, he found that he was wrong. The boys who lived in the village were accepted without reservation, but, naturally enough, seldom attained to a full degree of intimacy with those who lived in the dormitories.
By afternoon the twins had become well shaken down into the new life, had made several superficial acquaintances, and had begun to feel at home. Of Kewpie Proudtree they had caught but fleeting glimpses, for that youth displayed a tendency to keep at a distance. As the hour of four oclock approached, Ned became more and more worried, and his normally sunny countenance took on an expression of deep gloom. Laurie kept close at his side, fearing that courage would fail and Ned would bring disgrace to the tribe of Turner. But Laurie ought to have known better, for Ned was never what his fellows would have called a quitter. Ned meant to see it through. His mind had retained very little of the football lore that his brother had poured into it the night before, but he had, at least, a somewhat clearer idea of the general principles of the game. He knew, for instance, that a team comprised eleven players instead of the twelve he had supposed, and that certain restrictions governed the methods by which you might wrest the ball from an opponent. Thus, you could not legally snatch it out of his arms, nor trip him up in the hope that he would drop it. Ned thought the restrictions rather silly, but accepted them.
The athletic field, known in school parlance as the play-field, was even larger than it had looked from their windows. It held two gridirons and three baseball diamonds, as well as a quarter-mile track and ten tennis-courts. There was also a picturesque and well-appointed field-house and a fairly large grand stand. To Neds relief, most of the ninety students were in attendance, though only about forty of the number were in playing togs. Neds idea was that among so many he might escape close observation.
He had, of course, handled a football more or less, and he was possessed of his full share of common sense. Besides, he had perhaps rather more than his share of assurance. To his own surprise, if not to Lauries, he got through the hour and a half of practice very creditably. Seasoned candidates and novices were on the same plane to-day. There was, first of all, a talk by the coach. Mr. Mulford was a short, broad, good-humored man of about thirty, with a round and florid countenance, which possibly accounted for the nickname of Pinky that the school had affectionately awarded him. His real name was Stephen, and he had played guard, and played it well, for several years with Trinity College. This was his fourth season as football coach at Hillmans and his third as baseball coach. So far he had been fairly successful in both sports.
His talk was brief and earnest, although he smiled through it all. He wanted lots of material, but he didnt want any fellow to report for practice who didnt mean to do his level best and stick it out. Those who were afraid of either hard work or hard knocks had better save their time and his. Those who did report would get a fair trial and no favor. He meant to see the best team this fall that Hillmans School had ever turned out, one that would start with a rush and finish with a bang, like a rocket!
And, he went on, I want this team made up the way a rocket is. A rocket is filled with stars, fellows, but you dont realize it until the final burst. So were going to put the soft pedal on individual brilliancy this year. It almost had us licked last fall, as youll remember. This year were going to try hard for a well-rounded team of hard workers, fellows who will interlock and gear together. Its the machine that wins, the machine of eleven parts that work all together in oil. Were going to find the eleven parts first, and after that were going to do the oiling. All right now! Ten men to a squad. Get balls and pass in circles. Learn to hold the ball when you catch it. Glue right to it. And when you pass, put it where you want it to go. Dont think that the work is silly and unnecessary, because it isnt. A fellow who cant hold a ball when it comes to him is of no use on this team. So keep your minds right on the job and your eyes right on the ball. All right, Captain Stevenson.
At least, Ned could, to quote Laurie, stand in a circle and pass a football, and he did, and did it better than several others in his squad. In the same way, he could go after a trickling pigskin and catch it up without falling over himself, though it is possible that his form was less graceful than that of one or two of his fellows. When, later, they were formed in a line and started off by the snapping of the ball in the hands of a world-wearied youth in a faded blue sweater bearing a white H on its breast, Ned didnt show up so well, for he was almost invariably one of the last to plunge forward. The blue-sweatered youth called his attention to the fact finally in a few well-chosen words.
You guy in the brown bloomers! he bellowed. (Of course they werent bloomers, but a pair of somewhat expansive golf breeches that Ned, lacking proper attire, had donned, not without misgivings, on Lauries advice.) Are you asleep? Put some life into it! Watch this ball, and when you see it roll, jump! You dont look like a cripple, but you surely act like one!
Toward the end a half-dozen last-year fellows took to punting, but, to Neds relief, no one suggested that he take a hand at it, and at half-past five or thereabouts his trials came to an end. He went out of his way, dodging behind a group on the side-line, to escape Joe Stevenson, but ran plump into Frank Brattle instead.
Hello, Turner, Frank greeted. How did it go?
All right, replied Ned, with elaborate carelessness. Fine.
Rather a nuisance having to go through the kindergarten stunts, isnt it? continued the other, sympathetically. Mulfords a great hand at what he calls the fundamentals, though. I dare say hes right, too. Its funny how easy it is to get out of the hang of things during the summer. Im as stiff as a broom!
So am I, answered Ned, earnestly and truthfully. Frank smiled, nodded, and wandered on, and Ned, sighting Laurie hunched up in the grand stand, joined him. Its a bully game, football, he sighed, as he lowered himself cautiously to a seat and listened to hear his muscles creak. Full of beneficial effects and all that. Laurie grinned in silence. Ned felt experimentally of his back, frowned, rocked himself backward and forward twice, and looked relieved. I guess theres nothing actually broken, he murmured, I dare say itll be all right soon.
They say the first two months are the hardest, responded Laurie, comfortingly. After that theres no sensation.
They say the first two months are the hardest, responded Laurie, comfortingly. After that theres no sensation.
Ned nodded. I believe it, he said feelingly. He fixed his gaze on the farther goal-post and after a minute of silence remarked:
Id like to catch the man who invented football!
He turned a challenging look on his brother. Laurie blinked and for several seconds his lips moved noiselessly and there was a haunted look in his gray eyes. Then, triumphantly, he completed the couplet: It may suit some, but it doesnt suit all!
Rotten! said Ned.
Id like to see you do any better, answered Laurie, aggrievedly. There isnt any proper rhyme for football, anyway.
Nor any reason for it, either. Of all
Hi, you fellow! interrupted a scandalized voice. What are you doing up there? Have you done your two laps?
The speaker was a lanky, red-haired man who bristled with authority and outrage.
Two laps? stammered Ned. No, sir.
Get at it, then. And beat it in when you have. Want to catch cold, do you? Sitting around without a blanket or anything like that! The trainer shot a final disgusted look at the offender and went on.
Gee, murmured Ned, I thought I was done! Two laps, he said! Ill never be able to, Laurie!
Oh, yes, you will, was the cheerful response. And while youre doing them you can think up a better rhyme for football than I did!
Ned looked back reproachfully as he limped to the ground and, having gained the running-track, set off at a stiff-kneed jog. Lauries expression relented as he watched.
Sort of tough on the kid, he muttered sympathetically. Then his face hardened again and he shook his head. Ive got to be stern with him, though!
CHAPTER VI NED IS FIRM
Kewpie Proudtree obeyed the shouted invitation to enter Number 16 and appeared with a countenance as innocent as that of an infant. Hello, fellows, he said cordially, dropping into a chair with indications of exhaustion. How do you like it as far as youve gone?
Ned shifted in his seat at the study-table, choking back a groan, and fixed Kewpie with a baleful look. Listen, Proudtree, he said sternly. Ive got a bone to pick with you!
With me? Kewpie stared in amazement. What have I done?
Youve got me into a fix, thats what youve done! Didnt you ask me us last night not to let on to Stevenson that we I couldnt play football? Didnt you say it would be a favor to you? Didnt you say it would be all right and and everything?
Sure! What of it?
Why, you crazy galoot, you must have told him that I knew all about the game! And you knew mighty well I didnt! Stevenson thinks Im a wonder, and I dont know a touch-down from a a forward kick!
Pass, not kick, corrected Kewpie, patiently. Look here, Turner Say, are you Ned or Laurie? Blessed if I can tell!
Ned, replied that youth, with much dignity.
Guess Ill have to call you Ned, then. Cant call you both Turner. You understand. It was like this, Ned. You see, I want to stand in with Joe Stevenson. It its for the good of the school. If they dont play me at center this fall, who are they going to play? Well, Joe thought I well, he seemed to think I hadnt acted just right about keeping my weight down. He he was sort of peeved with me. So I wanted to smooth him down a bit. You understand. Thats why I told him what I did.
Well, what did you tell him?
Why, I sort of well, it wasnt what I said exactly; it was what he thought I meant!
Proudtree, youre telling a whopper, said Ned, sternly. And you told one to Stevenson, too, or I miss my guess.
I only said that you were a swell football-player.
For the love of lemons! What do you call that but a whopper?
Kewpie looked both ashamed and distressed. He swallowed hard and glanced furtively at Laurie as though hoping for aid. But Laurie looked as unsympathetic as Ned. Kewpie sighed dolefully. I I suppose it was, he acknowledged. I didnt think about that. Im sorry, Ned, honest! I didnt mean to tell what wasnt so. I just wanted to get Joes mind off his troubles. You understand.
Well, you got me in a mess, grumbled Ned. I got by all right to-day, I suppose, but whats going to happen to-morrow?
Kewpie evidently didnt know, for he stared morosely at the floor for a long minute. Finally, Ill go to Joe and fess up if if you say so, he gulped.
I think you ought to, responded Ned.
Wheres the sense in that? demanded Laurie. What good would it do? Proudtree did fib, but he didnt mean to. I mean he didnt do it for harm. If he goes and tells Stevenson that he fibbed, Stevenson will have it in for him harder than ever; and he will have it in for you, too, Ned. Maybe he will think it was a scheme that you and Proudtree hatched together. Thats a punk idea, I say. Best thing to do is prove that Proudtree didnt fib.
How? asked Ned.
Why, Proudtree
Theres an awful lot of that Proudtree stuff, complained the visitor. Would you mind calling me Kewpie?
All right. Well, Kewpie told Captain Stevenson that you are a swell player. Go ahead and be one.
Huh, sounds easy the way you say it, scoffed Ned; but how can I, when I dont know anything about the silly game? I wish to goodness youd taken up football instead of me!
You got through to-day all right, didnt you? asked Laurie. Well, keep it up. Keep your eyes open and learn. You can do it. Youre no fool, even if you havent my intellect. Besides, youre the best little fakir that ever came over the range.
You cant fake kicking a football, said Ned, scathingly.
Look here! exclaimed Kewpie, his round face illumined by a great idea. Tell you what, Ned! Ill show you how to kick!
The silence that greeted the offer might have offended a more sensitive youth, but Kewpie went on with enthusiasm. Of course, Im no wonder at it. Im a little too short in the leg and, right now, I Im a bit heavy; but I used to kick and I know how it ought to be done. Say we have a half-hour or so at it every morning for a while?
Wouldnt Stevenson know what was up? asked Ned, dubiously.
He neednt know. Well go over to the lot behind the grammar school. Even if he saw us, hed think we were having some fun.
He must have a strange idea of fun, sighed Ned. Still, if you want to take the trouble
Glad to! Besides, I owe you something for for getting you in wrong. And I can put you wise to a lot of little things about handling a ball. We could do some passing, for instance. Wonder whos got a ball we could borrow. Ill find one somewhere. You understand. Now, what hour have you got free in the morning?
A comparison of schedules showed that on two mornings a week the boys could meet at ten, and on two other mornings at ten-thirty. The remaining days were not accommodating, however.
Well, even four times a week will show results, said Kewpie, cheerfully. This is Thursday. Well have the first lesson Saturday at ten.
I hope they dont ask me to do any kicking before then, said Ned.
Not likely. Youll get about the same stuff to-morrow as you had to-day. Youll get by, take my word for it. Thats settled, then. Kewpie referred to an ornate gold wrist-watch. Its after eight. Youre going over to Johnnys, arent you!