Behind the Line: A Story of College Life and Football
Page 22
CHAPTER XXII
BETWEEN THE HALVES
Neil trotted along at the tail-end of the procession of substitutes, sodeep in thought that he passed through the gate without knowing it, andonly came to himself when he stumbled up the locker-house steps. Hebarked his shins and reached a conclusion at the same instant.
At the door of the dressing-room a strong odor of witch-hazel andliniment met him. He squeezed his way past a group of coaches and lookedabout him. Confusion reigned supreme. Rubbers and trainer were hard atwork. Simson's voice, commanding, threatening, was raised above allothers, a shrill, imperious note in a rising and falling babel of sound.Veterans of the first half and substitutes chaffed each othermercilessly. Browning, with an upper lip for all the world like a pieceof raw beef, mumbled good-natured retorts to the charges brought againsthim by Reardon, the substitute quarter-back.
Erskine vs. Robinson--The First Half.]
"Yes, you really ought to be careful," the latter was saying withapparent concern. "If you let those chaps throw you around like thatyou may get bruised or broken. I'll speak to Price and ask him to bemore easy with you."
"Mmbuble blubble mummum," observed Browning.
"Oh, don't say that," Reardon entreated.
Neil was looking for Paul, and presently he discovered him. He was lyingon his back while a rubber was pommeling his neck and shouldersviolently and apparently trying to drown him in witch-hazel. He caughtsight of Neil and winked one highly discolored eye. Neil examined himgravely; Paul grinned.
"There's a square inch just under your left ear, Paul, that doesn'tappear to have been hit. How does that happen?"
Paul grinned more generously, although the effort evidently pained him.
"It's very careless of them, I must say," Neil went on sternly. "Seethat it is attended to in the next half."
"Don't worry," answered Paul, "it will be." Neil smiled.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Fine," Paul replied. "I'm just getting limbered up."
"You look it," said Neil dryly. "I suppose by the time your silly neckis broken you'll be in pretty good shape to play ball, eh?" Simsonhurried up, closely followed by Mills.
"How's the neck?" he asked.
"It's all right now," answered Paul. "It felt as though it had beendriven into my body for about a yard."
"Do you think you can start the next half?" asked Mills anxiously.
"Sure; I can play it through; I'm all right now," replied Paul gaily.Mills's face cleared.
"Good boy!" he muttered, and turned away. Neil sped after him.
"Mr. Mills," he called. The head coach turned, annoyed by theinterruption.
"Well, Fletcher; what is it?"
"Can't I get in for a while, sir?" asked Neil earnestly. "I'm feelingfine. Gillam can't last the game, nor Paul. I wish you'd let--"
"See Devoe about it," answered Mills shortly. He hurried away, leavingNeil with open mouth and reddening cheeks.
"Well, that's what I get for disappointing folks," he told himself."Only he needn't have been _quite_ so short. What's the good of askingDevoe? He won't let me on. And--but I'll try, just the same. Paul's hadhis chance and there's no harm now in looking after Neil Fletcher."
He found Devoe with Foster and one of the coaches. The latter waslecturing them forcibly in lowered tones, and Neil hesitated tointerrupt; but while he stood by undecided Devoe glanced up, his face apucker of anxiety. Neil strode forward.
"Say, Bob, get me on this half, can't you? Mills told me to see you," hebegged. "Give me a chance, Bob!"
Devoe frowned impatiently and shook his head.
"Can't be done, Neil. Mills has no business sending you to me. He'slooking after the fellows himself. I've got troubles enough of my own."
"But if I tell him you're willing?" asked Neil eagerly.
"I'm not willing," said Devoe. "If he wants you he'll put you on. Don'tbother me, Neil, for heaven's sake. Talk to Mills."
Neil turned away in disappointment. It was no use. He knew he could playthe game of his life if only they'd take him on. But they didn't know;they only knew that he had been tried and found wanting. There was notime now to test doubtful men. Mills and Devoe and Simson were not to beblamed; Neil recognized that fact, but it didn't make him happy. Hefound a seat on a bench near the door and dismally looked on. Suddenly aconversation near at hand engaged his attention.
Mills, Jones, Sydney Burr, and two other assistant coaches were gatheredtogether, and Mills was talking.
"The 'antidote's' all right," he was saying decidedly. "If we had ateam that equaled theirs in weight we could stop them short; but they'reten pounds heavier in the line and seven pounds heavier behind it. Whatcan you expect? Without the 'antidote' they'd have had us snowed undernow; they'd have scored five or six times on us."
"Easy," said Jones. "The 'antidote's' all right, Burr. What we need aremen to make it go. That's why I say take Gillam out. He's played a stargame, but he's done up now. Let Pearse take his place, play Gale as longas he'll last, and then put in Smith. How about Fletcher?"
"No good," answered Mills. "At least--" He stopped and narrowed hiseyes, as was his way when thinking hard.
"I think he'd be all right, Mr. Mills," said Sydney. "I--I know himpretty well, and I know he's the sort of fellow that will fight hardestwhen the game's going wrong."
"I thought so, too," answered Mills; "but--well, we'll see. Maybe we'llgive him a try. Time's up now.--O Devoe!"
"Yes, coming!"
"Here's your list. Better get your men out."
There was a hurried donning of clothing, a renewed uproar.
"All ready, fellows," shouted the captain. "Answer to your names:Kendall, Tucker, Browning, Stowell, Witter, Jewell, Devoe, Gale, Pearse,Mason, Foster."
"There's not much use in talk," said Mills, as the babel partly diedaway. "I've got no fault to find with the work of any of you in the lasthalf; but we've got to do better in this half; you can see that foryourselves. You were a little bit weak on team-play; see if you can'tget together. We're going to tie the score; maybe we're going to beat.Anyhow, let's work like thunder, fellows, and, if we can't do any more,tear that confounded tackle-tandem up and send it home in pieces. We'vegot thirty-five minutes left in which to show that we're as good if notbetter than Robinson. Any fellow that thinks he's not as good as the manhe's going to line up against had better stay out. I know that every oneof you is willing, but some of you appeared in the last half to belaboring under the impression that you were up against better men. Getrid of that idea. Those Robinson fellows are just the same as you--twolegs, two arms, two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. Go at it right and youcan put them out of the play. Remember before you give up that the otherman's just as tuckered as you are, maybe more so. Your captain says wecan win out. I think he knows more about it than we fellows on theside-line do. Now go ahead, get together, put all you've got into it,and see whether your captain knows what he's talking about. Let's havea cheer for Erskine!"
Neil stood up on the bench and got into that cheer in great shape. Hewas feeling better. Mills had half promised to put him in, and whilethat might mean much or nothing it was ground for hope. He trotted on tothe field and over to the benches almost happily.
The spectators were settling back in their seats, and the cheering hadbegun once more. The north stand had regained its spirit. After all, thegame wasn't lost until the last whistle blew, and there was no tellingwhat might happen before that. So the student section cheered and sang,the band heroically strove to make itself heard, and the purple flagstossed and fluttered. The sun was almost behind the west corner of thestand, and overcoat collars and fur neck-pieces were being snuggled intoplace. From the west tiers of seats came the steady tramp-tramp ofchilled feet, hinting their owners' impatience.
The players took their places, silence fell, and the referee's whistleblew. Robinson kicked off, and the last half of the battle began.