The Turner Twins

by Ralph Henry Barbour

  CHAPTER XX--FOR THE HONOR OF THE TURNERS

  Walking felt good to Ned that morning. The air, brisk in spite of thesunshine and the day's stillness, cleared his head of the queercloudiness that had been there since awakening, and, turning into thecountry road that led eastward toward the higher hills, he strode alongbriskly. He had, he reflected, played rather a low-down trick on Laurie;but that could be explained later, and Laurie wouldn't mind when heunderstood. When he had gone the better part of a mile into the country,and the road had begun to steepen perceptibly, the sound of a motorbehind warned him to one side. But, instead of passing in a cloud ofdust, the automobile slowed down as it reached the pedestrian, and thedriver, a genial-looking man of middle age, hailed.

  "Going my way?" he asked. "Get in if you like."

  Ned hesitated, and then climbed in beside the solitary occupant of thecar. The prospect of speeding through the sunlit morning world appealedto him, and he thanked the driver and snuggled into the other corner ofthe front seat.

  "That's all right, my boy," answered the man, genially. "Glad to havecompany. How far are you going?"

  "Just--just up the road a ways," replied Ned, vaguely. "I was out for awalk, only this seemed better."

  "Well, it's quicker, though it doesn't give you quite so much exercise,"was the response. "You sing out when you've had enough. Maybe you canget a lift going back, if you're not in too much of a hurry. Still,there isn't much travel on this road. Most folks go around by LittleWindsor. It's longer, but the road's a sight better. I go this waybecause I can do it quicker. There are some fierce bumps, though. Yellif you drop out!"

  The car was a heavy one with good springs, and as long as Ned remainedin it the bad bumps didn't materialize. His companion evidently liked totalk, and Ned learned a good deal about him and his business, without,however, finding it very interesting. The man asked few questions, andso Ned merely supplied the information that he was from Hillman's Schooland that he liked to walk and that he had all the morning to get backin. The car kept up an even, effortless speed of twenty-seven or -eightmiles an hour, and it was finding himself booming up the straight gradeover Candle Mountain that brought Ned to a sudden realization that if hemeant to get back to school by twelve o'clock without undue effort hehad best part company with his chatty acquaintance. So, at the summit ofthe hill, he said good-by, repeated his thanks, and got out.

  "Guess you're about six miles from Orstead," said the man. "It won'ttake you long to get back there, though, if you find a lift. Don'thesitate to stop any one you see; they'll be glad to take you in.Good-by!"

  The gray automobile went on and was speedily dropping from sight beyondthe nearly leafless forest. Ned watched it disappear, and then set hisface toward home. The ride had certainly done him good, he told himself.The prospect of being called on to kick a dozen goals wouldn't havedismayed him a mite at that moment. In fact, he suddenly realized thathe was going to be horribly disappointed if the chance to attempt atleast one goal from the field did not come to him, and he wondered whyhe had felt so craven last night.

  After a mile or so a small, dust-covered car overhauled him and went bywithout a challenge from him. It was still only ten o'clock, and he hadtwo hours yet, and he had no intention of begging a ride. Takenleisurely, the remaining miles would be covered without weariness and inplenty of time. When he had accomplished, as he reckoned, about half thedistance to Orstead, his watch said seventeen minutes to eleven. Theforenoon had grown appreciably warmer, and so had Ned. Beside the roadwas a little knoll carpeted with ashy-brown beech-leaves. Only a stonewall, bordered with blackberry briars, intervened.

  Ned climbed across the wall and seated himself on the slope of theknoll. The land descended gently before him toward the river and thetown, but neither was in sight. Presently, removing his cap, hestretched himself on his back and linked his fingers under his head. Andpresently, because the blue, sunlit, almost cloudless sky was toodazzling to gaze at long, he closed his eyes. And as he did so astrange, delicious languor descended upon him. He sighed luxuriously andstretched his legs into a more comfortable position. It was odd that heshould feel sleepy at this time of day, he thought, and it wouldn't doto stay here too long. He wished, though, that he didn't have to getanywhere at any especial time. It would be great to just lie here likethis and feel the sun on his face and--

  At about that moment he stopped thinking at all and went sound asleep.

  When he awoke he was in shadow, for the sun had traveled around and pastthe elbow of a near-by old and knotted oak whose brown-pink leaves stillclung to the twisted branches. Ned looked around him in puzzlement, andit was a long moment before he could account for his surroundings. Whenhe had, he sat up very quickly and gave a startled look at his watch.The thing was crazy! It said twenty-one minutes past two! Of course itcouldn't be that late, he told himself indignantly. But even as he saidit he was oppressed by a conviction that it was. And a look at the sunremoved any lingering doubt!

  He sprang to his feet, seized his cap, and stumbled across the wall,and, again on the road, set out at a run toward home. But after a momenthe slowed up. "Was there any use in hurrying now? The game was alreadyin progress--had been going on for twenty minutes. The first quarter wasprobably nearly over. What would they say to him, the fellows and CoachMulford and--Laurie? Somehow, what Laurie would think appeared far moreimportant than what any of the others might. He would have such a poorexcuse, he reflected ruefully! Went for a walk, and fell asleep by theroad! Gee, he couldn't tell them that! He might tell Laurie; but theothers--"

  He was jogging on as he thought things over. Even if he ran all the way,and he couldn't do that, of course, he wouldn't get to school beforethree. And then he would have to change into his togs and reach thefield. And by that time the second half would have started. Wouldn't itbe far better to remain away altogether? He might easily reach his roomunseen, and then, when Laurie returned, he could pretend illness. Hemight not fool Laurie; but the others, Coach Mulford and Dave Murray andthe fellows, would have to believe him.

  If a fellow was ill, he couldn't be expected to play football. He evengot as far as wondering what particular and peculiar malady he couldassume, when he put the idea aside.

  "No use lying about it," he muttered. "Got to face the music, Ned! Itwas your own fault. Maybe Mulford will let me down easy. I wouldn't liketo queer myself for next year. Gee, though, what'll the school think?"And Ned groaned aloud.

  While he had slept, five vehicles had passed him, and as many personshad seen him lying there asleep in the sun and idly conjectured abouthim. But now, when he needed help to conquer the interminable threemiles that stretched between him and the town, and although heconstantly turned his head to gaze hopefully back along the dusty road,not a conveyance appeared. Before long, since he had unwisely started attoo great a speed, he was forced to sit down on a rock and rest. He wasvery nearly out of breath and the perspiration was trickling downbeneath his cloth cap. A light breeze had sprung up since he had droppedasleep, and it felt very grateful as it caressed his damp hair andflushed face.

  Perhaps those three miles were nearer four, because when, tired, dusty,and heart-sick, he descried the tower of the Congregational church abovethe leafless elms and maples of the village, the gilded hands pointed totwelve minutes past three. Even had he arrived in time, he reflectedmiserably, he would never have been able to serve his team-mates and hisschool, for he was scarcely able to drag one foot behind the other as hefinally turned into the yard.

  The place appeared deserted, grounds and buildings alike, as Nedunhesitatingly made his way across to the gymnasium. He had long sincedecided on his course of action. No matter whether he had failed hiscoach and his schoolmates, his duty was still plain. As late as it was,he would get into his togs and report at the field. But when, in theempty locker-room, he paused before where his football togs should havebeen, he found only empty hooks. The locker, save for towels, was empty!

  At first he accepted the fact as conc
lusive evidence of hisdisgrace--thought that coach or manager or an infuriated student bodyhad removed his clothes as a signal of degradation! Then theunlikelihood of the conclusion came, and he wondered whether they hadreally been there. But of course they had! He remembered perfectlyhanging them up, as usual, yesterday afternoon. Perhaps some one hadborrowed them, then. The locker had been unfastened, probably, for halfthe time he forgot to turn the key in it. Wondering, he made his way outof the building, undecided now what to do. But as he reached the cornera burst of cheers floated to him from the play-field. His head came up.It was still his duty to report, togs or no togs! Resolutely he set outon Summit Street, the sounds of battle momentarily growing nearer as helimped along.

  By the entrances many automobiles and some carriages lined the road.Above the stand the backs of the spectators in the top row of seatslooked strangely agitated, and blue flags waved and snapped. A faintercheer came to him, the slogan of Farview, from the farther side of thefield. He heard the piping of signals, and a dull thud of leatheragainst leather, then cries and a whistle shrilling; and then a greatand triumphant burst of cheering from the Blue side.

  He hurried his steps, leaped the low fence beside the road, and came toa group of spectators standing at the nearer end of the long, low grandstand. He could see the gridiron now, and the battling teams inmid-field. And the scoreboard at the farther end! And, seeing that, hisheart sank. "Hillman's 7--Visitors 9" was the story! He tugged thesleeve of a man beside him, a youngish man in a chauffeur's livery.

  "What period is it?" he asked.

  "Fourth," was the answer. The man turned a good-natured look on theboy's anxious face.

  "Been going about four minutes. You just get here?"

  Ned nodded. "How did they get their nine?" he asked.

  "Farview? Worked a forward pass in the second quarter for about thirtyyards, and smashed over for a touch-down. They failed at goal, though.That made 'em six, and they got three more in the last quarter.Hillman's fumbled about on their thirty, and that bandy-legged full-backof Farview's kicked a corking goal from field. Gee--say, it was somekick!"

  "Placement or drop?"

  "Drop. Almost forty yards, I guess. There they go again!" The chauffeurtiptoed to see over a neighbor's head. Ned, past his shoulder, had anuncertain glimpse of the Maroon and White breaking through the Blue'sleft side. When the down was signaled, he spoke again.

  "How did Hillman's score?" he asked.

  "Huh? Oh, she got started right off at the beginning of the game andjust ate those red-legs up. Rushed the ball from the middle of thefield, five and six yards at a whack, and landed it on the otherfellow's door-sill. Farview sort of pulled together then and made afight; but that big chap, Pope, the full-back, smashed through finally,right square between the posts. After that he kicked the goal. Guess thered-legs had stage-fright then, but they got over it, and our fellowshaven't had a chance to score since. Pope had to lay off last quarter.They played him to a standstill. Mason's mighty good, but he can't makethe gains Pope did. First down again! Say, they aren't doing a thing buteating us up!"

  Ned wormed himself to the front of the group, and came to anchor at theside of a tall policeman, close to the rope that stretched from the endof the stand well past the zone line. By craning his neck he could lookdown the length of the field. White-sweatered, armed with big bluemegaphones, Brewster and Whipple and two others, cheer leaders, wereworking mightily, although the resulting cheers sounded weak where Nedstood. The teams were coming down the field slowly but surely, the Bluecontesting every yard, but yielding after every play. The lines facedeach other close to the thirty now. Across the gridiron, Farview's paeanswere joyful and confident, and the maroon-and-white flags gyrated inair. Well back toward his threatened goal, Hop Kendrick, white-faced andanxious, called hoarse encouragement. Ned clenched his hands and hopedand feared.

  A line attack turned into an unexpected forward pass, and a tall Farviewend came streaking down just inside the boundary. Hop was after him likea shot; but Deering, who had taken Pope's place, ran him out at thefifteen-yard line. The Maroon and White went wild with joy. The teamstrooped in on the heels of the diminutive referee, and the ball was downjust inside Hillman's fifteen. Ned looked the Blue team over. Save forCorson and White, the line was made up of first-string men, but the backfield was, with the single exception of Mason, all substitutes:Kendrick, Boessel, and Deering.

  A plunge straight at the center gave Farview two more precious yards,Kewpie, apparently pretty well played out, yielding before the desperateattack. Three more yards were gained between Emerson and Stevenson onthe left. Third down now, and five to go! Evidently Farview wasdetermined on a touch-down, for on the nine yards, with an excellentchance for a field goal, she elected to rush again. But this time theBlue's center held, and the Farview left half, when friend and foe waspulled from above him, held the pigskin scarcely a foot in advance ofits former position. It was Hillman's turn to cheer, and cheer she did.Ned added a wild shout of triumph to the din about him.

  Fourth down, and still five yards to gain! Now Farview must either kickor try a forward, and realizing this the Blue's secondary defensedropped back and out. A Farview substitute came speeding on, a new lefttackle. Then, amid a sudden hush, the quarter sang his signals: "Kickformation! 73--61--29--" The big full-back stretched his arms out."12--17--9!" Back sped the ball, straight and breast-high. The Blue lineplunged gallantly. The stand became a pandemonium. The full-back swung along right leg, but the ball didn't drop from his hands. Two steps tothe left, and he was poising it for a forward pass! Then he threw, wellover the up-stretched hands of a Hillman's player who had brokenthrough, and to the left. A Maroon and White end awaited the ball, forthe instant all alone on the Blue's goal-line. Ned, seeing, groaneddismally. Then from somewhere a pair of blue-clad arms flashed intosight, a slim body leaped high, and from the Hillman's side of the fieldcame a veritable thunder of relief and exultation. For the blue arms hadthe ball, and the blue player was dodging and worming toward the fartherside-line! Captain Stevenson it was who cleared the path for him at thelast moment, bowling over a Farview player whose arms were alreadystretched to grapple, and, in a shorter time than the telling takes, HopKendrick was racing toward the distant goal!

  Afterward Ned realized that during the ensuing ten or twelve seconds hehad tried desperately to shin up the tall policeman; but at the time hehad not known it, nor, or so it appeared, had the policeman, for thelatter was shouting his lungs out! Past the middle of the field spedHop, running as fleetly as a hare, and behind him pounded a solitaryFarview end. These two left the rest of the field farther and fartherback at every stride. For a moment it seemed that Hop would win thatdesperate race; but at last, near the thirty-five yards, he faltered,and the gap between him and his pursuer closed to a matter of three orfour strides, and after that it was only a question of how close to thegoal the Blue runner would get before he was overtaken and dragged down.The end came between the fifteen- and twenty-yard streaks. Then, no morethan a stride behind, the Farview player sprang. His arms wrappedthemselves around Hop's knees, and the runner crashed to earth.

  For a long minute the babel of shouting continued, for that eighty-yardsprint had changed the complexion of the game in a handful of seconds.Hillman's was no longer the besieged, fighting in her last trench tostave off defeat, but stood now on the threshold of victory, herself thebesieger!

  Farview called for time. Two substitutes came in to strengthen her line.Hop, evidently no worse for his effort, was on his feet again, thumpinghis players on the backs, imploring, entreating, and confident. On theseventeen yards lay the brown oval, almost in front of the right-handgoal-post. A field goal would put the home team one point to the good,and, with only a few minutes left to play, win the game almost beyond adoubt, and none on the Blue's side of the field doubted that a try atgoal would follow. Even when the first play came from ordinary formationand Deering smashed into the left of Farview's line for a scant yard,the audience was not
fooled. Of course, it was wise to gain what groundthey might with three downs to waste, for there was always the chancethat a runner might get free and that luck would bring a touch-downinstead.

  Yet again Hop signaled a line attack. This time it was Mason who carriedthe ball, and he squirmed through for two yards outside left tackle,edging the pigskin nearer the center of the goal. Then came a shout thatstarted near the Blue team's bench and traveled right along the stand. Aslight youngster was pulling off his sweater in front of the bench, aboy with red-brown hair and a pale, set face. Then he had covered thered-brown hair with a leather helmet and was trotting into the fieldwith upraised hand.

  Ned stared and stared. Then he closed his eyes for an instant, openedthem, and stared again. After that he pinched himself hard to makecertain that he was awake and not still dreaming on the knoll beside theroad. The substitute was speaking to the referee now, and Deering waswalking away from the group in the direction of the bench. The cheeringbegan, the leaders waving their arms in unison along the length of theHillman's stand:

  "'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! 'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! 'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! Deering!"

  And then again, a second later: "'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! 'Rah, 'rah, 'rah!'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! Turner!"

  Ned turned imploringly to the tall policeman. "What--who was that lastfellow they cheered?" he faltered.

  The policeman looked down impatiently.

  "Turner. Guess he's going to kick a goal for 'em."