CHAPTER XX
AMY APPEARS FOR THE DEFENCE
PRACTICE on Monday was a wretched affair. To be sure, many of thefellows who had played in the Chambers game had been excused, but thatdidn't account for the fact that those who did take part went at theirwork as if half asleep. Both McPhee and Cotter failed to get any lifeinto the first, and the second, while it, too, seemed to have taken partin the general slump, managed to score twice while the first was withdifficulty wresting three touchdowns from its opponent. Mr. Robeyshouted himself red in the face, Steve Edwards, who followed practice,pleaded and exhorted, and a stocky, broad-shouldered, bearded individualwho made his appearance that afternoon for the first time frowned andshook his head, and all to small purpose. The players accepted scoldingsand insults as a donkey accepts blows, untroubledly, apathetically, andjogged on at their own pace, guilty of all the sins of commission andomission in the football decalogue.
There was much curiosity about the newcomer and many opinions as to hisidentity were hazarded on the bench that afternoon. It was quite evidentthat he was a football authority, for Coach Robey consulted him at timesall during practice. And it was equally evident that they were closefriends, since the stranger was on one occasion seen to smite the headcoach most familiarly between the shoulders! But who he was and what hewas doing there remained a secret until after supper. Then it becameknown that his name was Proctor, Doctor George G. Proctor, that he was apractising physician some place in the Middle West and that he wasvisiting Coach Robey. But that was unsatisfactory data and someenterprising youth hunted back in the football records and, lo, themystery was explained. Eight years before "Gus" Proctor had playedtackle on the Princeton eleven and in his junior and senior years hadbeen honoured with a position on the All-American Team. Subsequently hehad coached at a college in Ohio and had put said college on the map.Now, having stolen away from home to see Princeton and Yale play nextSaturday, he was staying for a day or two with Mr. Robey. After thatbecame generally known Doctor Proctor was gazed at with a new respectwhenever he appeared on field or campus.
Don and Tim went up to Number 12 that night after supper to call on TomHall. Tim was having hard work making Don face the music. If Don couldhave had his way he would have kept to himself, but Tim insisted ondragging him around. "Just keep a firm upper lip, Donald," hecounselled, "and show the fellows that there's nothing in it. That's theonly way to do. If you keep skulking off by yourself they'll thinkyou're ashamed."
"So I am," muttered Don.
"You're not, either! You've done nothing to be ashamed of! Keep that inmind, you silly It. Now come along and we'll go up and jolly Tom a bit."
Steve Edwards was not at home, but Amy Byrd was enthroned on thewindow-seat when they entered in response to Tom's invitation, and Amyhad evidently been holding forth very seriously on some subject.
"Don't mind us," said Tim. "Go ahead, Amy, and get it off your chest."
"Hello," said Amy. "Hello, Don, old man. Haven't seen you for an age.Make yourselves at home. Never mind Tom, he's only the host. How did youlike the practice today, Tim?"
"I didn't see it, but I heard enough about it. It must have beenfierce!"
"It was perfectly punk," growled Tom. "I should think Robey would wantto throw up his hands and quit!"
"Did you see it, Don?" asked Amy.
"No, I didn't go over. What was the trouble?"
"Well, I'm no expert," replied Amy, taking his knees into his arms androcking gently back and forth on the seat, "but I'd say in my ignorantway that someone had unkindly put sleeping-potions in the milk attraining-table! The only fellow who seemed to have his eyes more thanhalf open was McPhee. Mac showed signs of life at long intervals. Therest sort of stumbled around in their sleep. I think Peters actuallysnored."
"Oh, we're going to get a fine old drubbing next Saturday," said Tompessimistically. "And what a fine exhibition for that chap Proctor! I'llbet Robey could have kicked the whole team all the way back to the gym.He looked as though it would have done him a world of good to have a tryat it!"
"Oh, well, these things happen," said Tim cheerfully. "It's only aslump. We'll get over it."
"Slump be blowed!" said Tom. "This is a fine time to slump, five daysbefore the game!"
"I know that, too, but there's no use howling about it. What we need,Tom, is to have you get back there at right guard, old man."
"That's what I've been saying," exclaimed Amy earnestly. "I want Tom togo to Josh and ask him to let him play, but he won't. Says it wouldn'tbe any good. You don't know whether it would or not, Tom, until you tryit. Look here, Josh doesn't want us to get beaten Saturday any more thanwe want it ourselves, and if you sort of put it up to him like that----"
"I'd look well, wouldn't I?" laughed Tom. "Telling Josh that unless helet me off pro the team would get licked! Gee, that's some modest, isn'tit?"
"You don't have to put it like that," replied Amy impatiently. "Be--bediplomatic. Tell him----"
"What we ought to do," interrupted Tim, "is get up a petition and haveeveryone sign it."
"I thought of that, too," said Amy, "but this dunder-headed Turk won'tstand for even that."
"Why not, Tom?" asked Don.
"Because."
"And after that?" asked Amy sweetly.
"Well, look here, you chaps." Tom scowled intently for a moment. "Lookhere. It's this way. Josh put a bunch of us on pro, didn't he? Well,what right have I to go and ask to be let off just because I happen tobe a football man? You don't suppose those other fellows like it anybetter than I do, do you?"
"Oh, forget that! I'm one of them, and I'm having the time of my life.It's been the making of me, Tom. I'm getting so blamed full of learningthat I'll be able to loaf all the rest of the year; live on my income,so to say." And Amy beamed proudly.
"That's all right," answered Tom doggedly, "but I don't intend tocry-baby. I'm just as much in it as any of you. If Josh wants to let usall off, all right, but I'm not going to ask for a--a specialdispensation!"
"You don't need to," said Tim. "Let the fellows do it. That has nothingto do with you. What's to keep us from going ahead and getting up apetition?"
"Because I ask you not to," replied Tom simply. "It's only fair that weshould all be punished alike."
"But you're not," said Don.
"We're not? Why aren't we?" asked Tom in surprise.
"Because you're getting it harder than Amy and Harry Westcott and theothers," answered Don quietly. "They aren't barred from any sport, andyou are."
"By Jove, that's a fact!" exclaimed Amy.
"But--but we all got the same sentence," protested Tom.
"I know you did, but"--Don smiled--"put it like this. I hate parsnips;can't bear them. Suppose you and I were punished for something we'd doneby being made to eat parsnips three times a day for--for a month! Youlike them, don't you? Well, who'd get the worst of that? The sentencewould be the same, but the--the punishment would be a heap worse for me,wouldn't it?"
"'Father was right'!" said Tim.
"Oh, father never spoke a truer word!" cried Amy, jumping up from thewindow-seat. "That settles it, Tom! Get some paper, Tim, and we'll writethat petition this minute and I'll guarantee to get fifty signaturesbefore ten o'clock!"
"You'll do nothing of the sort," said Tom stubbornly. "Don talks like alawyer, all right, but he's all wrong. And, anyway, I'm out of footballand I'm going to stay out for this year. I've quit training and Iprobably couldn't play if Josh said I might. So that----"
"Oh, piffle," said Amy. "Quit training! Everyone knows you never quittraining, Tom. You could go out there tomorrow and play as good a gameas you ever did. Don't talk like a sick duck!"
"There's no reason why I should play, though. Pryme's putting up a bullygame----"
"Pryme is doing the best he knows how," said Tim, "but Pryme can't playguard as you can, Tom, and he never will, and you know it! Now have agrain of sense, won't you? Just sit tight and let us put this thingthrough. There isn't a fellow
in school who won't be tickled to death tosign that petition, and I'll bet you anything you like that Josh will bejust as tickled to say yes to it. Whatever you say about Josh Fernald,you've got to hand it to him for being fair and square, Tom."
"Josh is all right, sure. I haven't said anything against him, have I?But I won't stand for any petition, fellows, so you might as well getthat out of your heads. Besides, my being on the team or off it isn'tgoing to make a half of one per cent's difference next Saturday."
There was silence in the room for a moment. Then Amy went dejectedlyback to the window-seat and threw himself on it at full length. "I thinkyou might, Tom," he said finally, "if only on my account!"
"Why on your account?" laughed Tom.
"Because I'm the guy that got you all into the mess, that's why. AndI've felt good and mean about it ever since. And now, when we think up aperfectly good way to--to undo the mischief I made, you act like a mule.Think what a relief it would be to my conscience, Tom, if you got offpro and went back and played against Claflin!"
"I don't care a continental about your conscience, Amy. In fact I neverknew before that you had one!"
"I've got a very nice one, thanks. It's well-trained, too. It----" Amy'svoice trailed off into silence and for the next five minutes or so hetook no part in the conversation, but just laid on the cushions andstared intently at the ceiling. Then, suddenly, he thumped his feet tothe floor and reached for his cap.
"What time is it?" he demanded.
"Most eight," said Tim. "We'd better beat it."
"What time----" began Amy. Then he stopped, pulled his cap on his headand literally hurled himself across the room and through the door,leaving the others to gaze at each other amazedly.
"Well, what's wrong with him?" gasped Tim.
"He's got something in that crazy head of his," answered Tom uneasily."Don't let him start that petition business, Tim, will you? I don't wantto seem mean or anything, you know, but I'd rather let things be as theyare. Come up again, fellows. And maybe today's showing doesn't meananything, Tim, just as you said. We'll hope so, eh?"
Faculty conferences took place on Monday evenings at half-past seven inthe faculty meeting room in Main Hall. At such times, with theprincipal, Mr. Fernald, presiding at the end of the long table and allmembers of the faculty able to attend ranged on either side, all andsundry matters pertaining to the government of the school came up fordiscussion. The business portion of the conference was followed by aninformal half-hour of talk, during which many of the students weresubjected to a dissection that would have surprised them vastly had theyknown of it. Tonight, however, the executive session was still going onand Mr. Brooke, the secretary, was still making notes at the foot of thetable, when there came a rap at the door.
Mr. Fernald nodded to Mr. Brooke. "See who it is, please," he said.
The secretary laid down his pen very carefully on the clean square ofblue blotting-paper before him, pushed back his chair and opened thedoor a few inches. When he turned around his countenance expressed asort of pained disapprobation. "It's Byrd, sir," announced Mr. Brooke ina low, shocked voice. "He says he'd like to speak to you."
"Byrd? Well, tell him I'm busy," replied the principal. "If he wants towait I'll see him after the conference. Although"--Mr. Fernald glancedat the clock--"it's only four minutes to eight and he'd better get backto his room. Tell him I'll see him at the Cottage at nine, Mr. Brooke.As I was saying," and Mr. Fernald faced the company again, "I think itwould be well to arrange for a longer course this Winter. Last year, asyou'll recall---- Eh? What is it?"
"He says, sir, that it's a faculty matter," announced Mr. Brookedeprecatingly, "and asks to be allowed to come in for a minute."
"A faculty matter? Well, in that case----All right, Mr. Brooke, tell himto come in."
As Amy entered eight pairs of eyes regarded him curiously; nine, infact, for Mr. Brooke, closing the door softly behind the visitor, gazedat him in questioning disapproval.
"Well, Byrd, what can we do for you?" Mr. Fernald smiled, doubtless withthe wish to dispel embarrassment. But he needn't have troubled aboutthat, for Amy didn't look or act in the least embarrassed. "I'm afraid,"continued the principal, "that I can't offer you a chair, for we'rerather busy just now. What was it you wanted to speak of?"
"I guess it looks pretty cheeky, sir, for me to butt in here," repliedAmy, with a smile, "but it's rather important, sir, and--and ifanything's to be done about it it'll have to be done tonight."
"Really? Well, it does sound important. Suppose you tell us about it,Byrd."
"Thank you, sir." Amy paused, gathering his words in order. "It's this,Mr. Fernald: when we fellows were put on pro--probation, I mean, it wasintended that we should all get the same punishment, wasn't it, sir?"
"Let me see, that was the affair of---- Ah, yes, I recall it. Why, yes,Byrd, naturally it was meant to treat you all alike. What complaint haveyou?"
"It isn't exactly a complaint, sir. But it's this way. There were nineof us altogether. It was my fault in the first place because I put themup to it. They'd never thought of it if I hadn't." Amy glanced at Mr.Moller. "It was a pretty silly piece of business, sir, and we got whatwe deserved. But--but none of us meant to--to hurt anyone's feelings,sir. It was just a lark. We didn't think that----"
"We'll allow that, Byrd. Please get down to the purpose of this unusualvisit," said Mr. Fernald drily.
"Yes, sir. Well, eight of us it doesn't matter so much about. We aren'tfootball men and being on probation doesn't cut so much--I mean itdoesn't matter so much. But Tom Hall's a football man, sir, and it'sdifferent for him. This is his last year here and losing his place onthe team was hard lines. That's what I'm trying to get at, sir. Youmeant that we were all to be punished the same, but we weren't. It'sjust about twice as hard on Tom as it is on the rest of us. You seethat, sir, don't you?"
There was a moment of silence and then Mr. Simkins coughed. Or did hechuckle? Amy couldn't tell. But the principal dropped his eyes andtapped his blotter with the tip of the pencil he held. At last:
"That's a novel point of view, Byrd," he said. "There may be somethingin it. But I must remind you that the Law--and the faculty stands forthe Law here--takes no cognisance of conditions existing--hem!" Mr.Fernald glanced doubtfully down the table. "Perhaps it should, though.We'll pass that question for the moment. What is it you suggest, Byrd?"
"Well, sir, the team's in punk shape. It was awful today. It needs Tom,sir; needs him awfully. I don't say that we'll beat Claflin if he shouldplay, Mr. Fernald, but I'm mighty sure we won't if he doesn't. And itseemed to me that maybe you and the other faculty members hadn't thoughtof how much harder you were giving it to Tom than to the rest of us, andthat if you did know, realise it, sir, you'd maybe consider that he'dhad about enough and let him off so he might play Saturday. The rest ofus haven't any kick coming, sir. It's just Tom. And he doesn't know thatI'm here, either. We tried to get him to let us petition faculty, but hewouldn't. He said he was going to take the same punishment as the restof us."
"Then he doesn't agree with your contention, Byrd?"
"Oh, he sees I'm right, Mr. Fernald, but he--he's obstinate!"
Mr. Fernald smiled, as did most of the others.
"Byrd, I think you ought to take a law course," said the principal. "Imight answer you as I started to by pointing out that it is no businessof ours whether a punishment is going to hit one fellow harder thananother; that just because it might should make that one fellow morecareful not to transgress. But you've taken the wind out of my sails bygetting me to testify that we intended the punishment to be the same forall. You've put us in a difficult place, Byrd. If we should liftprobation in Hall's case it would seem that we had different laws forteam members than for boys unconnected with athletics. You've made avery eloquent plea, but I don't just see----" Mr. Fernald hesitated.Then: "Possibly someone has some suggestion," he added, and it seemed toAmy that his gaze rested on Mr. Moller for an instant.
At all events it
was the new member of the faculty who spoke. "If Imight, sir," he said hesitatingly, "I'd like to make the suggestion thatprobation be lifted from all. It seems to me that that would--wouldsimplify things, Mr. Fernald."
"Hm. Yes. Possibly. As the target of the extremely vulgar proceeding,Mr. Moller, the suggestion coming from you bears weight. Byrd, you'dbetter get to your studies. You'll learn our decision in the morning.Your action is commendable, my boy, and we'll take that intoconsideration also. Good-night."
"Good-night, sir. Good-night, sirs. Thank you."
Amy retired unhurriedly, unembarrassedly, and with dignity, as befittedone who had opened the eyes of Authority to the error of its ways!
The next morning Mr. Fernald announced in chapel that at the request ofMr. Moller, and in consideration of good behaviour, the faculty hadvoted to lift probation from the following students: Hall----
But just there the applause began and the other eight names were notheard.
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