That settled the score for the first half, and the teams trotted off with honors even. There was a good deal of dissatisfaction expressed in Allans neighborhood over the playing of the home team, and much gloomy prophecy was indulged in in regard to the outcome of the final and most important game of the season that with Erskines old-time rival, Robinson University.
About the middle of the intermission, Allan heard his name called, and looked down to see a small, sandy-haired fellow waving a note-book at him. Allan waved back, and the owner of the note-book the latter his never-absent badge of office climbed up the seats and was duly pummeled and laid hold of on his way. Tommy Sweet was a Hillton fellow, and considering that he had been a class ahead of Allan at that school, the two had been quite friendly there until Sweet had gone up to Erskine. So far Allan had not seen much of him, for Tommy was on the Purple, as he liked to put it, and was an extremely busy youth. Tommys friends declared he would find something to do if he was strapped in bed.
The key-note of Tommy was eagerness. His wide-open blue eyes were always staring about the world in search for something to engage his attention, and his ridiculously small mouth was forever pursed into something between a grin and an exclamation-point. His hair was just the color of tow, and the freckles which covered every available portion of his face were several shades darker, but harmonized perfectly. He was tireless in the search for news for the Purple, and when it came to activity would have made the proverbial ant or beaver look like a sluggard. Tommy thought sleep a criminal waste of time, and even begrudged the moments spent in eating.
Tommy was only perfectly happy when doing four things at once; less than four left him dull and dissatisfied. Clarke Mason once said: Ill bet some day Tommy will commit second-degree murder so theyll give him hard labor for life. For the rest he was a cheerful, likable fellow, aggressively honest and painfully conscientious.
What did you think of that run of Cutlers? he asked, breathlessly, as he sank onto the seat at Allans side. Peach, wasnt it? Itll show up great in the diagram Im making; see! He opened his note-book and exhibited a puzzling maze of lines and dots, figures and letters. Thats the first half. Everythings there runs, kicks, plunges, penalties, the whole show.
Whats it for? asked Allan. Anything to do with geometry?
Why, no; its Oh, quit your kidding! Its to go with my report of the game. It shows how the gains were made and who made em. And Ive introduced something new in diagrams, too. See these figures along the edge here 4:17, 4:22, and so on?
Well, I see something there, I think, answered Allan, cautiously.
Those signify the time each play was made, said Tommy, triumphantly. Thats never been done before, you know.
I see. But it must keep you pretty busy. Do you have to write the game up, too?
Oh, yes. Tommy showed three or four pages of awful-looking scrawls from a fountain-pen. Thats done in a sort of shorthand, and I write it out full length at the office. Say, where did you tell me your room was? I meant to put it down, but forgot it. Purdys? Oh, yes; I know where that is. I want to come around some evening, if I can ever find the time. How are you getting on? Anything I can do for you? Any fellows youd like to meet? No? Well, let me know if I can do anything for you. Very glad to, you know. That was quite a race you made the other day. Billy seems to have taken a fancy to you, doesnt he? Hes all right, Allan; you shine up to him and Hello! theres a fellow I want to see. Come and see me, will you? Twenty-two Sesson, you know. So long, old chap!
Tommy hurried pell-mell down the stand, shaking off detaining hands, and disappeared into the throng. Allan took a long breath; he felt as though a small hurricane had been playing with him. The teams came onto the field again and the second half began. It proved uninteresting, and only the superior weight of the Erskine eleven won them the game finally by the close margin of a safety. Allan followed the throng out of the enclosure and across toward the locker house and the gate. But half-way there the crowd divided, and Allan presently found himself looking on at the practise of the freshman teams. The first team had the ball on the seconds five-yard line and was trying very hard to put it over to an accompaniment of command and entreaty from the coaches.
Third down and two to go! some one shouted. A shrill voice called a jumble of figures and a tandem slid forward at a tangent, and for an instant confusion reigned. Then suddenly a roar of laughter went up, the line of watchers broke forward, and Allan found himself directly in the path of what at first glance looked like an avalanche of canvas and leather. Springing back, he escaped being borne along by the group of struggling players, in the center of which, rising like a city sky-scraper out of a huddle of shanties, stood forth, calm and determined, the countenance of Peter Burley.
In his arms, struggling but helpless, was the first elevens left half-back, and to his back and legs and, in short, to every portion of his anatomy, hung the enemy, for all the world like bees on a nest in swarming time. Behind them the second eleven pushed and shoved, and relentlessly the whole mass moved down the field. And somewhere, drowned by the laughter of the spectators and the despairing shrieks of Down! Down! from the abducted half-back, sounded feebly the referees whistle.
One by one the impeditive players dropped away, and Burleys triumphant advance toward the enemys goal was stopped by the referee and two coaches. Burley set down the half-back, in whose arms the pigskin was still clutched, but did not release his grasp until his obligations were hurriedly but clearly explained to him. Then he patted the half-back on the shoulder in a paternal manner and retraced his steps to the enthusiastic applause of the convulsed throng. The second team hugged as much of him as they could encompass and he smiled cheerfully, but was evidently still somewhat perplexed. The ball went to the second on her eight yards and the game continued, Burley, at right guard, looming head and shoulders above his companions.
Allan watched the game for a few moments longer, and then continued his journey. Somehow the calm, inscrutable manner in which the big freshman had strode down the field in unquestioning obedience to what he had supposed to be his duty appealed to Allan. It had been awfully funny, and Allan smiled as he recalled it. But the incident had held for him something more than humor, just what he hardly knew; but whatever it was, and even though he would have found it difficult to give a name to it, it completely changed his feeling toward Burley. By the time he had reached Mrs. Purdys front gate, he was wondering whether Burley still desired his acquaintance.
CHAPTER V
MR. PETER BURLEY, BLACKWATER, COL.
Hal Smiths dropped in after dinner that evening and Allan brought the conversation around to the subject of Burley, whose performance during practise had been the chief topic at the dinner-table.
Why, Poor was awfully pleased at my suggestion, said Hal, after I found him. It was after twelve then, and Id chased half over college looking for him. He said he wasnt very good at persuasion and thought Burley would require lots of it; so he asked me to see him. Poors a pretty good little chap, so I went. Burley was awfully decent. Said he had never played and had never even seen the game until he came here; said he hadnt been able to find out what it was all about, but that if we wanted him to try it, why, of course, he would. Said he thought it looked like pretty good fun, and got me to sort of explain it a bit. One thing he wanted to know, laughed Hal, was whether you could hit a man if he didnt have the ball.
Well, he played it for all it was worth this afternoon, said Allan, smiling. You heard about it, didnt you?
No; what was it? I sat on the side line all afternoon, and waited to get a whack at State University. What did Burley do?
So Allan told him, and Hal laughed until the tears came.
Oh, hes a genius, he is! he said.
After a minute of chuckling, he went on:
Look here, Allan, I think youd rather like him if you got to know him. Hes hes rather a decent sort, after all. I didnt take to him at first, of course, but and I dont say now that hes the sort of chap youd want to ask home and introduce to your people; hes kind of free and easy, and you couldnt be sure he wouldnt drink the catsup out of the bottle or slap your governor on the back but hes well, theres something about him you cant help liking, he ended, with an apologetic tone.
Maybe I would, answered Allan, pleasantly. Hal looked surprised.
Hes given up the class secretaryship, you know, he announced.
Why?
I dont know for sure, but Poor says he told him it was because he didnt think hed be here much after the holidays.
Wheres he going? asked Allan.
Dont know. Funny idea, to come to college for half a year. Maybe
There were footsteps on the porch, the front portal opened with a crash, and an imperative knock sounded on the room door. Allan jumped to his feet. Could it be fire? he wondered, shooting a bewildered glance at Hal. He hurried to the door just as the hammering began again, more violently than before. Hal raised himself uneasily from the Morris chair, prepared for the worst. Allan called, Come in! and the door was flung open.
Entered Tommy Sweet!
You thundering idiot! bawled Hal. I thought it was at least the Dean! You can make more Hello, Burley! Glad to see you.
This is Mr. Burley, Allan, Tommy was saying. Brought him around cause I wanted you to know each other. Mr. Ware Mr. Burley.
Allan felt his hand enveloped in something large and warm and vise-like. He felt his fingers crushed together, thought he could hear the bones breaking and still managed to smile painfully, but politely, the while. Then Burley had dropped his hand and was saying:
Ive wanted to know you ever since I saw you win that running race the other day. Came around here and left a card on you, but I guess you didnt find it.
Allan murmured his appreciation, but remained silent as to the card.
I told Sweet here that youd win that race. Offered to bet him anything he liked. He wouldnt bet, though. Peter Burley took the chair proffered by Hal and carefully lowered himself into it.
They told me you carried me over to the tent, said Allan. Much obliged, Im sure.
Welcome, answered the other, heartily. You didnt weigh anything to mention.
Not as heavy as the freshman team, eh? asked Tommy. Burley looked apologetically around the circle.
I suppose every ones heard of that fool thing? he asked.
Just about every one, I guess, laughed Tommy.
That comes of trying to do something you dont know how to do. This fellow Smiths here came around to my shack the other day and said the class wanted me to play football because I weigh some. Well, ginger! I didnt know anything about the thing, and I told him so. But he would have it that I must play. And look what happens! I make a measly show of myself right out there on the range in front of the whole outfit!
No harm done, said Hal. You did what you tried to.
No, I didnt. There was a little cuss there in a Derby hat wouldnt let me. I was going to take that half-backed fellow down to the other end and throw him over the line. Thats what I was going to do. They didnt tell me I had to slap him on the chest and butt him with my head.
But, you see, explained Allan, he called Down just when you began to lug him off.
Thats what they said. I was supposed to let go of him when he said that, but I just thought he was throwing up the sponge and wanted me to let him down. If Id known he could have spoiled it by yelling Down, Id have held his mouth shut.
This summoned laughter, and Burley glanced around at the others in wide surprise. Allan felt surprise, too. Was Burley really quite so unsophisticated as he seemed, he wondered, or His glance met Burleys. The big fellows right eyelid dropped slowly in a portentous wink. Allan smiled. His question was answered. While the others entered into an explanation and discussion of the rules and ethics of football, Allan studied the Westerner.
Peter Burley looked to be, and was, twenty years of age. In form he was remarkably large; he was an inch over six feet tall, and weighed 203 pounds. Nowhere about him was there evidence of unnecessary fat, but he was deep of chest and wide of shoulder and hips. His hands and feet were large, and the latter were encased in enormously heavy shoes.
When it came to features, Burley was undeniably good-looking in a certain breezy, unconventional way. (Allan soon found that Burleys breeziness and absence of convention were not confined to his looks.) Burleys hair was brown, of no particular shade, and his eyes matched his hair. His nose was big and straight and his mouth well shaped. His cheeks were deeply tanned, but showed little color beneath. His usual expression was one of careless, whimsical good nature, but there was an earnest and kindly gleam in the brown eyes that lent character to the face. He talked with a drawl, and pronounced many words in a way quite novel to Allan. But and this Allan discovered later when occasion required, he was capable of delivering his remarks in a sharp, incisive way that made the words sound like rifle-shots. At the present moment he was talking with almost exaggerated deliberateness.
Sweet says you and he went to a preparatory school together, he said, turning to Allan. I wish my old man had sent me to one of those things. What was your school like?
Allan told him of Hillton, and Tommy and Hal chimed in from time to time and helped him along. It was a large subject and one they liked, and half an hour passed before they had finished. Burley listened with evident interest, and only interrupted occasionally to ask a question.
Howd you happen to come to Erskine? asked Tommy, when the subject had been exhausted. Burley took one big knee into his hands and considered the question for a moment in silence.
Well, Ill tell you, he said at last. You see, I had a go at the university over in Boulder; thats near Denver, he explained, parenthetically. But we didnt get on very well together, the faculty and me, and I was always turning up at the ranch. Well, the old man got tired of seeing me around so much; said hed paid for my keep at the university, and Id ought to stay there and get even with the game. But, ginger! the corral wasnt big enough. Every time Id try to be good, something would come along and happen, and first thing I knew, Id be roaming at large again. So the old man said he guessed what I needed was to get far enough away from home so I wouldnt back-trail so often; said there wasnt much doing when I went to college Monday morning and showed up for feed Thursday night. First he tried taking my railroad pass away; but when I couldnt scare up the money, I rode home on a freight. I got to know the train crews on the D. & R. G. pretty well long toward spring. When vacation came, we all agreed to call it off the faculty and the old man and me. So I went up to Rico and fooled around a mine there all summer. When