Dick Hamilton's Football Team; Or, A Young Millionaire On The Gridiron

by Howard Roger Garis

  CHAPTER XXVI

  ANOTHER GAME

  There was silence for a time among the cadets of the footballteam--silence broken only by the whirr and hum of the machinery as itran free, for the gasolene had been shut off. Under the big tirescrunched the small stones and gravel of the road.

  "Can't you start the motor and hold her back on the reverse?" shoutedDick above the noise.

  Simpson shook his head.

  "I'd rip her all to pieces if I did," he answered. "Queer about thatbrake rod snapping. That's not in my department, but I'd like to gethold of the man that inspected and tested it," he added grimly. "I'dbreak him!"

  Dick looked into the faces of his chums. There was a quiet, strainedlook in all of them, but none of them showed craven fear. He glanced athis father, and Mr. Hamilton smiled at his son.

  "I guess we won't be behind hand now," he said.

  "No," and Dick shook his head. Then he glanced over the side of thetruck and noted how the trees were slipping by. They were going atever-increasing speed.

  Luckily they met no other vehicles on the hill, or there might have beentrouble. The auto drivers in the rear, finding they could do nothingwere keeping up as close as they could, to render any assistance ifpossible.

  It was well that the speeding truck was strongly and ponderously made,and that it was hung low, otherwise it would have toppled over. As itwas they all swayed from side to side dangerously, tossing the occupantsagainst one another.

  "Good practice for the coming game," remarked Dutton.

  "I hope it doesn't take their nerve," said Mr. Martin in a low voice tohis colleague. "This may have a fearful effect."

  "Their nerves are good," declared the Princeton coach, "but I wish thiswas over. There's a good bit yet to go, and we'll travel faster at theend, for the hill is steeper there."

  Mr. Martin silently nodded, and then looked ahead. As he did so he couldnot refrain from a startled cry, for the hill took a sudden, steep dip,and it seemed impossible for any auto not under control to make itsuccessfully.

  Before any one could do anything, had it been possible, the car was atthe dangerous descent. Simpson drew in his breath sharply and graspedthe steering wheel with firmer grip.

  "Whew!" whistled Paul Drew. "This is awful!"

  Dick said nothing, but he moved up closer to his father. Fear wasclutching his heart, for he dreaded lest that all be killed.

  "This is about the end!" gasped the driver, as the steeper part of thehill came to an end. "The worst is over."

  The cadets could now look ahead, and see a level stretch. They werebeginning to breathe easier.

  "Once I'm on that I'll be all right," went on the driver. He reached ita moment later, but the speed of the ponderous car was not checked much.It had too great momentum.

  Suddenly Dick gave a cry of fear, and pointed forward. They all saw itat the same time. Three hundred feet away was a narrow bridge and atthat moment there appeared on it, turning in from a side road, a mandriving a team of horses attached to a light carriage. And, as thecadets looked, the horses seemed possessed with sudden fright at theview of the oncoming auto. They reared, and the driver had all he coulddo to hold them in.

  Then one animal, worse than its mate, kicked over the traces and, comingdown, got tangled in the harness. It fell heavily, right in the centreof the bridge, dragging down its mate. The man leaped out to go to theheads of the horses, and, as he saw the approaching auto he held up hishand and shouted a warning.

  "Stop! Stop!" he cried.

  "I can't!" yelled back Simpson. "Cut the harness! Push the horses offthe bridge!"

  The man was working frantically. Simpson gave a last desperate yank onthe brake lever. It was still out of commission, as he knew it would be.There seemed to be no escape from the impending crash which might meandeath for a number of them.

  "I'm going to jump!" cried George Hall, worming his way to the rear ofthe truck, which was going almost as fast as when on the hill.

  "Don't you do it!" cried Dick, with all the energy he possessed. "Here,Simpson, turn into that hayfield! Make for the stack! Run the auto intoit! That will stop us without damage!"

  "By gasolene! I believe you're right!" yelled the driver. "I'll do it.It's our only hope."

  "But the fence! The fence!" shouted Paul. "We'll smash into it!" for arail fence shut off from the road the field at which Dick had pointed.

  "That fence!" yelled Simpson in supreme contempt. "I'll smash it intokindling wood! Hold fast everybody! Here we go!"

  A moment later he had swung the car toward the hayfield. Fortunately itwas on a level with the road, or the front part of the auto would neverhave sustained the shock. Through the fence the ponderous machinecrashed as if it were paper. The next instant the big car plowedstraight into a big stack of hay.

  Like so many rubber balls, the football players were thrown forwardagainst one another, and Dick and the two coaches were tossed out intothe fragrant timothy.

  Then a cheer burst from the other cadets in the three following truckswhich had come to a stop. For they saw that their comrades were safe.The man on the bridge had succeeded in disentangling his horses and theywere now quiet.

  Simpson leaped from his seat, which he had managed to maintain, andlooked under the truck.

  "I knew it!" he cried. "Brake rod busted. Oh, if I had the man who madethat!"

  "Can we go on?" asked Dick anxiously as he picked himself up from thehay.

  "Wouldn't dare to without this brake rod being fixed" replied thedriver. "There are more hills."

  "Here, you football fellows get in one of these other trucks. We'll pileout and walk to the grounds--it's not far," called Percy Haddon.

  "That's the stuff!" shouted Manager Hatfield. "We haven't any too muchtime. Are you boys all right?"

  "Sure," answered Paul with a laugh. "We're ready to play the game of ourlives."

  "That's right!" came in a chorus from the others. Now that the strainwas over there was a bit of hysterical feeling, but it soon passedaway.

  Little time was lost in making the transfer. The football team and thesubstitutes got in one of the other trucks and were soon being whizzedoff to the grounds. The other two trucks, containing as many of theremaining cadets as could squeeze into them, pressed on, and only a fewhad to walk the remaining distance.

  Simpson backed his truck out of the hayfield which had practically saveda number of lives that day. Then the driver began work at repairing thebrake rod, his companions promising to return for him when they hadtaken the cadets to the grounds.

  Nor would Simpson accept any pay for the services he had rendered thatday.

  "I've got stock in your road, Mr. Hamilton," he said, "though it is onlytwo shares. This was a good test of the trucks, and I'm glad only abrake rod busted. It was better to happen now than after I had delivered'em. I'm satisfied."

  The Mooretown cadets were becoming anxious about the non-appearance oftheir opponents, for the hour for the game was fast approaching, whenDick and his players came running out on the gridiron. They were greetedwith a rousing cheer, for, though the rules called for the forfeiting ofa contest to the non-appearing team, the Mooretown cadets were truesportsmen and hated to take this advantage.

  "Jove! But I'm glad you fellows came!" cried the Mooretown captain as hewrung Dick's hand. "We were horribly afraid you wouldn't show up. Whatwas the matter? I thought you were coming by special train."

  "We were, but there was a mix-up and we had to charter these autos. Butwe're here and we're going to beat you!"

  "Yes, you are!" and the home captain laughed. "Well, I'll show you thedressing rooms. We've got a smashing big crowd here to-day and theweather is just right. It would have been a shame to disappoint 'em."

  "Well, it's too bad to have 'em see you defeated, but it can't behelped," said Dick with mocking seriousness and they both laughed. Thefright of the dangerous ride was fast passing away from all of theKentfield team.

  They were soon in their suits a
nd out on the gridiron practicing.Meanwhile the Mooretown lads were at work with the ball, and theKentfield coaches were critically sizing them up.

  "Not nearly as fast as our lads," declared Mr. Martin.

  "That's right. I don't expect a walkover, but there ought to be noquestion as to who is going to win--unless this auto affair has got onthe nerves of our lads."

  The crowd continued to arrive. The grandstands were like some gorgeoussunset in appearance, with the hats of the pretty girls, and the wavingof flags and banners. Cheers and songs, made music in keeping with theday.

  "Line-up!" came the cry, and when the whistle blew, and the ball waskicked off, twenty-two figures clad in earth-stained suits made a maddash for each other. The game was on.

  From the time of the first scrimmage Dick knew that his team had thecontest safe, for one smashing through the line of Mooretown told thestory. The men had over-trained and had gone "stale." On the other handthe Kentfield lads were as fresh as the proverbial daisies.

  "Take her along for a touchdown, boys!" ordered the captain, and downthe field the ball was worked in a steady succession of rushes. In vaindid Mooretown try to stem the tide against them. Once, when their goalline was almost reached, they did brace, and Dick began to plan a trickplay. But it was not needed, for the next moment Dutton was shoved overfor the touchdown, and the crowd of Kentfield students went wild withdelight. The goal was kicked easily, and then began the hammer and tongswork again.

  Once again that half Kentfield made a touchdown, not as easily as atfirst, for Mooretown had waxed desperate, but it was made. Not that itwas all "pie" to quote Dick, but they had the "measure" of theiropponents, and they began to see the championship looming clearly beforethem.

  Twelve to nothing was the score in favor of Kentfield at the end of thefirst half, which came to a close with the ball once more almost overthe Mooretown line.

  There were sore hearts among the players on the home team, and Dick andhis lads knew just how their opponents felt, but it was a fair game,with no quarter and it was the fortunes of war.

  "I'm afraid you're going to make good," said the Mooretown captain tothe young millionaire, as the second half started.

  "We've just _got_ to," answered Dick. "We want that gold cup."

  Hammering away again, the Kentfield lads advanced the ball. Mooretowngot it on a fumble once, and did some pretty work in punting, but it wasof no avail. Again they had the pigskin because of the penalty inflictedon a too eager Kentfield player, and they made a desperate try for afield goal, but it fell short.

  After that there was no more danger to our friends, and they kept theball advancing by steady rushes, or, to rest his men, Dick would callfor a forward pass. Again and yet again was the Mooretown goal linecrossed, amid the frantic cheers of the Kentfield contingent, and whenthe final whistle blew the score was twenty-nine to nothing.

  "Victory!" cried Dick in exultation, as he hugged as many of his playersas he could. "Now for Blue Hill next Saturday and we'll have such afeast as never was at Kentfield before!"