What was the name of the mine? asked Allan, eagerly.
This one was the Indian Girl. Theres lots of em thereabouts. The old man
Say, is the old man your father? asked Tommy.
Yes; why?
Nothing, only I should think hed lick you if he heard you calling him that.
Oh, he doesnt mind. Besides, he isnt really old; only about forty. He calls me Kid, too, he added, smiling broadly. Well, in the summer he wanted to know where Id rather go to college Yale, Harvard, Princeton, Pennsylvania; he said he didnt care so long as it was far enough away to keep me from diggin out for home every week and presenting myself with vacations not down on the calendar. Well, there was a fellow up at the mine named Thompson; he was superintendent. I was helping him or thought I was and so we got to be pretty good friends. He was a nice little fellow, about as high as a sage-bush, and as plucky as a bulldog. Well, he went to college here about ten years ago, and he used to tell me a good deal about the place. So, when the old man said, Which is it? I told him Erskine. He said hed never heard tell of it, but so long as it was about two thousand miles from Blackwater he guessed it would do. And thats how. Now you talk.
Thats the first time I ever heard of choosing a college because it was a long way from home, laughed Hal. Id like to meet that father of yours.
Better go back with me Christmas, said Burley. Hal stared at him doubtfully, undecided whether to laugh or not. Of course, continued Burley, carelessly, we havent got much out there. Its pretty much all alfalfa and sage-bush around Blackwater. But the hills arent far, and theres good hunting up toward Routt. You fellows all better come; the old man would be pleased to have you.
Hal stared wide-eyed.
Arent you fooling? he gasped.
Fooling? Burley echoed. Why, no, I aint fooling. Whats wrong?
Nothing; but of course we couldnt do it, you know; at least, Im plumb sure I couldnt. Hal looked doubtfully at the others.
Nor I, said Allan. I only wish I could.
Same here, said Tommy, wistfully. Id give a heap to have the chance.
Sorry, answered Burley. Perhaps in the summer, or some other time, when you havent got anything better. I suppose your folks want you at home Christmas?
Y-yes, replied Hal, but it isnt altogether that; theres the expense, you see.
Oh, it wouldnt cost you anything much, said Burley. Its all on me. Youd better say youll come.
Hals eyes opened wider than before.
You mean youd pay our fares all our fares out to Colorado and back? he asked.
Sure. Wed only have about a week out there, but we could do a lot of damage in a week.
Hal was silent from amazement. Allan stammered his thanks. Tommy merely sat and stared at Burley, as though fascinated. The latter translated silence into assent.
Well, well call it fixed, eh? he asked, heartily.
Thunder, no! exploded Hal. We couldnt do that, Burley. Were awfully much obliged, but, of course, if we went out there to visit you, wed pay our own way. And I dont believe any of us could do that this Christmas, at least.
Oh, be good! said Burley. Now, look here; Id let you do that much for me.
But we couldnt, said Allan.
Well, you would if you could, of course; wouldnt you, now?
Why er I suppose we would, Allan faltered.
Well, there you are! said Burley, triumphantly. That settles it.
It took the others some time to prove to him that it didnt settle it, and Burley listened with polite, but disapproving, attention. When the argument was concluded, he shook his head sorrowfully.
Youre a lot of Indians! he said. Youre not doing the square thing by me, and Im going to pull my freight. He drew himself out of the chair and rescued his big felt hat from beneath it. There was a general pushing back of chairs. You and Mr. Ware must come around to my tepee some night soon, Burley told Hal, and well have another pow-wow. Seems like Id done all the chinning to-night. He shook hands with Allan, who strove to bear the pain with fortitude and only grimaced once, and said in quite a matter-of-fact way, I guess you and I are going to be partners. Good night.
Allan muttered that he hoped so, and after the three visitors had taken their departures he examined his hand under the light to see if bruises or dislocations were visible.
I wonder, he asked himself, with a rueful smile, if he shakes hands very often with his partners?
CHAPTER VI
RIGHT GUARD BACK!
November started in with an Indian summer, but by the middle of the month the spell had broken, and a week of hard, driving rain succeeded the bright weather. Until then Allan had spent almost every afternoon on the cinder-track, running the half mile at good speed, doing the mile and a half inside his time, occasionally practising sprinting, and, once a week, jogging around until he had left nine laps behind him and had covered a quarter of a mile over his distance.
For by this time Kernahan had decided that the two-mile event was what he was cut out for, but promised him, nevertheless, that at the indoor athletic meeting, in February, he should be allowed to try both the mile and the two miles. The trainers instruction had already bettered Allans form; his stride had lost in length and gained in speed and grace until it became a subject for admiring comment among the fellows.
The Purple, in an article on Fall Work of the Track Team Candidates, hailed Ware 07 as a most promising runner, and one who has improved rapidly in form since the Fall Handicaps until at present he easily leads the distance men in that feature. It is Mr. Kernahans intention, concluded the Purple, to develop Ware as a two-miler, since this year, as in several years past, there is a dearth of first-class material for this distance.
But the rains put an end to the track work, as they put an end to all outdoor activities save football, and training was practically dropped by the candidates. On three occasions, when the clouds temporarily ceased emptying themselves onto a sodden earth, the middle and long distance candidates were sent on cross-country jogs and straggled home at dusk, very wet and muddy, and much out of temper. A week before Thanksgiving the sky became less gloomy and a sharp frost froze the earth till it rang like metal underfoot.
It was on one such day, a Saturday, that the Robinson freshman football team came to town and, headed by a brass band, marched out to the field to do battle with the Erskine youngsters. The varsity team had journeyed from home to play Artmouth, and consequently the freshman contest drew the entire college and town, and enthusiasm reigned supreme in spite of the fact that a Robinson victory was acknowledged to be a foregone conclusion.
Allan and Tommy Sweet watched the game from the side lines; Tommy, with note-book in hand, darting hither and thither from one point of vantage to another, and Allan vainly striving to keep up with him. The latter had gained admission beyond the ropes by posing as Tommys assistant; the assistance rendered consisted principally of listening to Tommys breathless comment on the game.
Oh, rotten! Tommy would snarl. Two yards more!.. Oh; perfectly rotten!.. See that pass? See it? What? Eh, what?.. Now, watch this! Watch Whatd I say? Good work, Seven!.. Now, thats playing!.. Third down and one to Whats that? Lost it? Lost nothing! Why, look where the ball is! How can they have lost Hey! hows that for off-side? Just watch that Robinson left end; look! See that?.. Three yards right through the center! What was Burley doing?.. Well, here goes for a touch-down. Theres no help now!.. Another yard!.. Two more!.. Did they make it? Did they?.. Hi-i-i! Our ball!
Allan and Tommy Sweet watched the game from the side lines; Tommy, with note-book in hand, darting hither and thither from one point of vantage to another, and Allan vainly striving to keep up with him. The latter had gained admission beyond the ropes by posing as Tommys assistant; the assistance rendered consisted principally of listening to Tommys breathless comment on the game.
Oh, rotten! Tommy would snarl. Two yards more!.. Oh; perfectly rotten!.. See that pass? See it? What? Eh, what?.. Now, watch this! Watch Whatd I say? Good work, Seven!.. Now, thats playing!.. Third down and one to Whats that? Lost it? Lost nothing! Why, look where the ball is! How can they have lost Hey! hows that for off-side? Just watch that Robinson left end; look! See that?.. Three yards right through the center! What was Burley doing?.. Well, here goes for a touch-down. Theres no help now!.. Another yard!.. Two more!.. Did they make it? Did they?.. Hi-i-i! Our ball!
It was a very pretty game, after all, and when the first half ended with the score only 5 to 0, in the visitors favor, Erskines hope revived, and during the intermission there was much talk of tying the score, while some few extremely optimistic watchers hinted at an Erskine victory. Considering the fact that the purple-clad team was twelve pounds lighter than its opponent, this was a good deal to expect, and Tommy, a fair example of conservative opinion, declared that the best he looked for was to have the second half end with the score as it then stood. But a good many guesses went wrong that afternoon.
Erskine had played on the defensive during the first half, and when, after receiving Robinsons kick-off, she punted the ball without trying to run it back, it seemed that she was continuing her former tactics. The punt was a good one and was caught on Robinsons thirty-yard line. The Brown accepted the challenge and returned the kick. It went to Erskines forty-five yards. Again Poor punted, and the ball sailed down to the Browns fifteen yards, where it was gathered into a half-backs arms. Erskine had gained largely in the two exchanges of punts, and her supporters cheered loudly, while Robinson, realizing discretion to be the better part of valor, refrained from further kicking and ran the ball back ten yards before she was downed.
And then, as in the first period of play, she began to advance the pigskin by fierce plunges at the Erskine line. But now there was a perceptible difference in results, a difference recognized by the spectators after the first two attacks. Robinson wasnt making much headway. Twice she barely made her distance; the third time she failed by six inches and, amidst cheering plainly heard on the campus, Erskine took the ball on her opponents twenty-five yards. The first plunge netted a bare yard, yet it carried the ball out of the checker-board, and a line-man dropped back. Tommy set up a shout.
Its Burley! Theyre going to play him back of the line!
There was no doubt about its being Burley. He loomed far above the rest of the backs, and even when, his hands on the full-backs hips, he doubled himself up for the charge, he was still the biggest object on the field. The stands danced with delight.
So far there had been no hint of the big right guard taking part in the tandem attacks; in fact, his presence on the team was doubtful until the last moment, for Burleys development as a football player had been discouragingly slow, in spite of his weight and strength and cheerful willingness. Even yet he possessed only a partial understanding of the game. He did what he was told to do, and did it as hard as he knew how; that constituted the extent of his science. The stands composed themselves, and breathless suspense reigned. Poors shrill pipe was heard reeling off the signals, and then
Then the advance began.
Robinson had played hard every moment of the first thirty-five minutes, and she had played on the offensive. Erskine had played hard too, but her playing had been defensive. To attack is more tiring than to repel attack, and now what difference there was in condition was in Erskines favor. Her defensive tactics were suddenly abandoned, and from that moment to the final whistle she forced the fighting every instant of the time.
Peter Burley was, to use Tommys broken, breathless words, simply great. He knew little or nothing about line-plunging. He didnt do any of the things coaches instruct backs to do. He merely waded into and through the opponents, without bothering his head with the niceties of play. If the hole was there, well and good; he went through it and emerged on the other side with half the Robinson team clinging to him. If the hole wasnt there, well and good again; he went through just the same, only he didnt go so far. But there was always a good gain sometimes a yard, sometimes two, sometimes three or four.
When the whistle blew, Burley climbed to his feet and ambled back to his position, unruffled and unheeding of the bruises that fell to his share. Nine plunges brought the ball to Robinsons five yards. There the Brown line held for an instant. The first down netted a bare yard, the second brought scarcely as much. The cheering, which had been continuous from the first attack, died down, and a great silence fell. Tommy was nibbling the corner off his note-book, and Allan, kneeling beside him, was nervously biting his lip. Poor drew Burley and the backs aside for a whispered consultation. Then the players took their positions again, and
Presto! Erskine had scored!
Without signals, the tandem had plunged onto the Robinson left tackle, Burleys leather head-guard had been seen for an instant tossing high above a struggling mass, and then had disappeared, and chaos had reigned until the referees whistle commanded a cessation of hostilities. When the piled-up mass was removed, Burley was found serenely hugging the ball to his chest a yard over the line.