A Quarter-Back's Pluck: A Story of College Football

by Lester Chadwick

  CHAPTER XXIII

  BATTERING BOXER HALL

  There was a little buzz of talk, following the announcement of thecoach. Each player looked at his neighbor, as if to learn whether or nothe was the guilty one. But Mr. Lighton at once called a halt to this.

  "I will say," he continued, "that no member of the 'varsity team,nor has any substitute, been guilty of this mean, sneaking piece ofbusiness. I don't even know who it was. I don't want to know. I don'tknow to whom the offer was made. I don't want to know. But we are goingto protect ourselves, and change the signals."

  It was a comparatively simple matter, the way the signals had beendevised, to so change them so that another team, even with a copy of theoriginals, would have found it impossible to know in advance what theplays were to be.

  Half an hour was spent in going over the new combinations while theteam was in the gymnasium, and then they went out on the field to playagainst the scrub. It was a little awkward at first for Phil to run theeleven under the new system, and he made one or two blunders. But thescrub was beaten by a good score.

  "You'll do better to-morrow," commented the coach. "It is a littletroublesome, I know, to use the new letters and figures, but we'llpractice on them constantly until we meet Boxer Hall on Saturday."

  This was to be the first game of the season with Boxer Hall, thecollege, which, with Fairview Institute and Randall, formed the TonokaLake League. The Randallites were on edge for it, and they had need tobe, for Boxer had a fine eleven, better than in many years.

  "We'll have all we want to do to beat them," said Phil to a crowd of hischums after practice one day. "They're in better shape than Fairviewwas."

  "So are we," declared Tom. "We're going to win."

  "I hope you do," remarked Ford Fenton. "They have a peculiar way ofplaying the game in the first half. My uncle says----"

  "Wow!" It was a simultaneous howl from the crowd of lads. They sometimesdid this when Ford's reminiscences got on their nerves. The lad with theuncle turned away.

  "I was going to put you on to some of their tricks," he continued ininjured tones. "Now I won't."

  "Write it out and hand it to Holly Cross," suggested Phil.

  "Well, Phil," remarked Tom to his chum on Saturday, about an hour beforethe big game, when the team was dressing in the Randall gymnasium, "doyou feel as if we were going to win?"

  "I certainly do," spoke the quarter-back as he laced his canvas jacket."I never felt in better shape. Only for one thing----" He pausedsuddenly, but Tom knew what he meant. It was the fear that, in the midstof the game, he might get bad news about his mother. Since receiving thetelegram advising him to be ready to leave for Florida on short notice,Phil and his sister had had word that their mother had rallied somewhat,but that no permanent hope was held out for her recovery.

  "Try not to think about it, old man," advised Tom.

  "I--I do try," responded Phil. "But it--it's hard work," and he bentover to tie his shoe.

  Out on the gridiron trotted the Randall players. They were received witha burst of cheers, led by Bean Perkins, whose voice was more than everlike a foghorn.

  "Give 'em the 'Conquer or Die' song," he called.

  "No; wait until they need it," suggested Sid Henderson, who was in thegrandstand. "Let's sing 'We're Going to Make a Touch-down Now!' That'llbe better."

  The verses and chorus welled out from several hundred lusty throats,and the Randall team, which was at quick practice, looked up inappreciation.

  "I wonder if any of the Fairview girls will be here," said Tom as he andPhil were passing the ball back and forth.

  "I don't know about all of 'em," replied the quarter-back, "but Ruth andMadge are coming."

  "Since when have you been calling her 'Madge'?" asked Tom, with a sharplook at his chum.

  "Since she gave me permission," was the answer, and Phil booted thepigskin well down the field.

  "And how long is that?"

  "What difference does it make to you?" and there was a shade of annoyancein Phil's voice.

  "Nothing, only I--er--well---- There they come!" cried Tom suddenly, butit was not to the girls that he referred. The Boxer Hall team had justtrotted out, to be received with a round of cheers from their partisans.

  "Husky-looking lot," observed Ed Kerr, as he and the other Randallplayers gazed critically at their opponents.

  "They are that," conceded Bricktop Molloy, one of the biggest guardswho ever supported a center.

  "I'm afraid they'll do us," came from Snail Looper, who was not of avery hopeful turn of mind.

  "Nonsense! Don't talk that way, me lad!" objected Bricktop, lapsinginto brogue, as he always did when very much in earnest. "Just becausethey're a lot of big brutes doesn't argue that we can't smash throughthem. _Omnis sequitur_, you know."

  "Oh, you and your Latin!" exclaimed Tom. "Don't we get enough of that inclass."

  "It's a fine language," went on Molloy, who was a good classicalscholar. "But suppose we line up and run a bit."

  The practice was over, the preliminaries had all been arranged, the newball was brought out and handed to Boxer Hall, for Captain Stoddard hadwon the toss, and elected to kick off. The yellow spheroid was placed onthe center line, on top of a little mound of earth.

  "Are you all ready?" asked the referee, and Captain Holly Cross cast aquick eye on his team, which, spread out on their field, was like anaggregation of eager foxhounds, waiting for the start.

  "Ready," answered Holly.

  "Ready," responded Stoddard.

  The whistle sounded shrilly, and a moment later Pinkey Davenport's goodright toe had met the pigskin with a resounding "thump," and the ballwas sailing toward the Randall goal.

  Jerry Jackson caught it and began scuttling back toward the center ofthe field. Tom, with Ed Kerr and Bricktop Molloy, formed interferencefor him, and with their efficient aid Jerry rushed the leather back forthirty yards, or to within five yards of the middle of the gridiron.There he was downed with a vicious tackle by Dave Ogden, who had managedto get through between Tom and Bricktop, though they flung themselves athim. Jerry lay still for a moment after falling, with the ball tightlyclasped in his arms. Captain Cross ran to him.

  "Hurt?" he asked anxiously.

  "No. Only--only a little wind knocked out of me," answered the pluckyleft half-back. "I'm all right now."

  "Line up, fellows!" cried Holly, and Phil began rattling off a string ofnumbers and letters.

  It was a signal for Kindlings to take the ball through tackle, and, ashe got it, the right half-back leaped for the hole that was opened forhim. Right through he plunged, staggering along, half pulled, halfshoved, until it was impossible to gain another inch, and Kindlings wasburied out of sight under an avalanche of players. But the required gainhad been made, and Phil signaled for another try at the Boxer Hallline. Captain Stoddard was vainly calling on his men to brace and holdtheir opponents, while from the grandstand came wild cheers at the firstsign of prowess on the part of Randall.

  This time Holly Cross went through guard and tackle for a fine gain, andnext he was sent between right-tackle and end. So far there had not beena halt in the progress of bucking the line, but when, on the next play,Ed Kerr was called on to go through between left-end and tackle, he feltas if he had hit a number of bags of sand. There was not a foot of gain,and Ed barely saved the ball, which bounced from his arms; but he fellon it like a flash.

  "Don't try there again," whispered Kerr to Phil, as he took his positiononce more. Phil, however, had seen that the Boxer Hall line was weak,and he determined for another try at it, but in a different place. Thistime Jerry Jackson was called on for a run around right-end, and sosuccessful was it that he went to the twenty-five-yard line before hewas heavily thrown. The tackling of the Boxer Hall lads was severe whenthey got a chance at it.

  Phil, in a flash, determined for a field goal trial. The chances were infavor of it, for there was no wind, and the position was right. Besides,if it was successful it would add imm
ensely to the spirit of his team,and give them a rest from the hard line bucking.

  Quickly he gave the signal, and Holly Cross ran to the thirty-yard linefor a drop kick. The ball came back and was cleanly caught. The Randallline held, and Holly booted the pigskin in fine shape, but with a groanalmost of anguish the players and supporters of the college by the riversaw the ball strike the cross-bar and bounce back. The attempt hadfailed.

  The leather was brought out to the twenty-five-yard line, and Boxer Hallprepared for her turn at it. On the first try they gained fifteen yardsthrough a hole that was ripped between Grasshopper Backus and DutchHousenlager. They then gathered in ten more by a run around Tom's end,though he made a desperate effort to stop the man with the ball.

  "Right through 'em, now, fellows!" called Captain Stoddard to hisplayers. "Rip 'em up!"

  "Hold 'em! Hold 'em!" besought Holly Cross.

  And hold the Randallites did. The wave of attack fell back in a sort offroth of players as Pinkey Davenport tried in vain to gain throughcenter. Snail Looper was like a great rock. Once more there was a try atthe line, Dave Ogden being sent in with a rush. But he only gained threeyards, and it was inevitable that Boxer would punt. The backs of theRandall team ran toward their goal, but Boxer worked a pretty trick,and on a double pass made fifteen yards before the man was stopped.

  "That's the stuff!" cried the Boxer coach, and he ran on the field towhisper to Captain Stoddard.

  But the thoughtless action of the coach brought its punishment, forBoxer was penalized ten yards on account of their trainer coming on thefield without permission. There was much kicking at this, but theofficials insisted, and it stood. Then, with a net gain of less than wasneeded, and on the last down, Boxer had to kick. Holly Cross got theball and rushed it well back before he was downed.

  So far the playing had been pretty even. Though Boxer was a bit weak ondefense, they played a snappy game, and seemed to be able to outgeneraltheir opponents. Now Randall had another chance to show what they coulddo.

  "Give 'em the 'Conquer or Die' song now!" cried Bean Perkins, and thestrains of "_Aut vincere aut mori_" welled out over the gridiron. Itseemed to give just the stimulus needed, and when Kindlings had beensent crashing into the line for a twelve-yard gain, Phil quicklyresolved on the fake tackle and pass to half-back play. First, however,he called for Ed Kerr to make a try through right-tackle, and whenthis had been accomplished, with a smashing force that temporarilydemoralized the Boxer Hall players, Kindlings was once more requestedto oblige. He took the ball from Ed, who had received it from Phil, andaround right-end he went, with beautiful interference. It completelyfooled the other team, and when the Boxer full-back finally managed tostop Kindlings it was on the ten-yard line.

  "Touch-down! Touch-down!" yelled the Randall supporters.

  "Touch-down it shall be!" exclaimed Phil.

  Smash and hammer, hammer and smash, batter and push it was for the nextthree minutes! Boxer was desperate, and with tears in their eyes herplayers sought to stem the tide rushing against them. But Randall wasnot to be denied. Again and again her men went battering against thewall of flesh and blood, until, with what seemed a superhuman effort,Holly Cross was shoved over the line for a touch-down.

  Oh, what yelling and cheering there was then! Even the voice of BeanPerkins, strident as it was, could not be heard above the others. Thegrandstands were trembling with the swaying, yelling, stamping mass ofenthusiasts congregated on them.

  Holly Cross kicked a beautiful goal, and with the score six to nothingagainst them, Boxer Hall prepared to continue the game. There was no letup to the play. It was fast and furious. For a time it seemed that Boxerwould score, as, after getting possession of the ball by means of aforward pass, they ripped off twenty yards, and followed that up bygathering in ten more by a smashing play through center. Snail Looperwas knocked out, and had to go to the side lines, Rod Everet replacinghim. This, to a certain extent, weakened the team, and Randall could notseem to hold. The ball was rushed along until it was within three yardsof the maroon and yellow goal. Then, responding nobly to the entreatieswhich Holly Cross, made, his players held stiffly, and Randall got theball on downs. No time was lost in booting the pigskin out of danger,and before another formation could be made the whistle blew, and thefirst half was over.

  "Fellows," remarked Coach Lighton in the dressing-room during the rest,"I needn't tell you that you've got to play for all you're worth to winthis game. We're going to have trouble this half. With Looper gone,though I expect Everet will do nearly as well at center, it means acertain loss of team work. But do your best. Their line isn't as strongas I feared, but they play much fiercer in the attack than I expected.However, I think you can rip 'em up. Get another touch-down--two if youcan--and prevent them from scoring. They may try for a field goal. Ifthey do, get through and block the kick. Now rest all you can."

  The second half started in fiercely. Randall kicked off, and succeededin nailing the Boxer Hall man with the ball before he had run tenyards. But when the line-bucking began something seemed to be thematter with the Randall players. They were shoved back very easily, itappeared, and, with constant gains, the ball was carried toward theirterritory. So eager did the Randallites get at one stage that theyplayed off-side, and were penalized ten yards. Again there was holdingin the line, and ten yards more were given to Boxer Hall for this. Theopponents of Randall were now within thirty yards of the goal. By asmash through center they ripped off five more. Then Pinkey Davenportdropped back for a trial for a field goal, and made it. The score wasnow six to five in favor of Randall.

  When Randall got the ball again there was a change at once noticed. Moreconfidence was felt, and so fiercely did her players assail the linethat they carried the pigskin, in three rushes, well toward the middleof the field.

  Phil gave the signal for a forward pass, and it was well executed. Thencame a fake kick, and this was followed by an on-side one. Both nettedgood gains, and once more Randall was jubilant.

  "Right through the line!" cried Phil. "Eat 'em up, fellows!"

  His players responded to his call. Through tackle, guard and center,then around the end, the plays being repeated, the ball was carried.The men were tiring, but Phil would not chance a kick. They had no surething of a field goal now, as a little wind had sprung up. Up and up thefield the spheroid, yellow no longer, but dirty and grass-stained,was carried. On the Randallites took it, until they were on thetwenty-five-yard line. There was a form of madness among the collegesupporters now. Once more came the fierce cries for a touch-down, andonce more Phil called to his teammates to respond. The signal for somesequence plays was given. It was well these had been practiced, forPhil's voice could scarcely be heard. One after another four plays werereeled off. They were all effective, and though Boxer Hall tried to stemthe rush, it was impossible. Over the line went the Randall lads, to theinspiring chorus of: "Tear 'Em Apart and Toss 'Em Aside!"

  "Touch-down! Touch-down! Touch-down!" came the frantic cries, theplayers mingling their voices with those of the spectators on thegrandstand. The goal was missed, but the score was now eleven to five infavor Randall.

  Again came the line-up after the kick off. By a fumble Boxer lost theball, and Tom Parsons fell on it. Then began another fierce attack onthe Boxer eleven. But the terrific line-smashing was telling on bothteams, though more so on Randall. There was less power in her attack.

  Boxer held for downs, and the kick was a weak one, the ball going onlya short distance. Then Boxer Hall began to rush it back, and by a trickplay got it so far down the gridiron that another field goal was kicked.It began to look dubious for Randall, but there was no give-up in herplaying. Securing the ball, Phil kept his players on the rush. Down thefield they went, a forward pass netting a good gain and wonderfullysaving the wind of the now almost exhausted team. An on-side kick wasalso used, and then, seeing a weak place in the adversary's line, Philin turn sent Kindlings, Jerry Jackson and Holly Cross at it. In vain didBoxer Hall try to stop up th
e gap, but their left-tackle and guard wereabout all in. In two minutes more Bricktop Molloy was shoved over theline for a third touch-down, and, as goal was kicked, the score wasseventeen to ten.

  "One more touch-down!" cried Holly Cross, but there was no time for it.Two minutes more of play and the whistle blew. Randall had won one ofthe fiercest games she had ever played.

  "A cheer for Boxer Hall!" cried Holly Cross, and the despondent players,grieving over their defeat, sent back an answer. Then came cheer uponcheer from the grandstand, where waved the yellow and maroon of Randall,and Bean Perkins led in the song: "We Have Come and We Have Conquered!"

  "Great, old man!" cried Tom to Phil, who was limping slightly. "Are youhurt?"

  "I shouldn't care if I was in pieces after the way we walloped them!Come on over here. I see my sister and Madge!"

  Tom followed, his head singing from a severe knock he had received.