Right End Emerson

by Ralph Henry Barbour

  CHAPTER XX

  JIMMY HAS A CLEW

  It was a rejuvenated team that met Oak Grove Academy the followingafternoon. I don’t mean that it played faultless football, for itdidn’t, but it had certainly come back wonderfully, and the School,looking on, marveled and perked up and, toward the end of the game,regained its old confidence and belief. It might have been argued thatOak Grove was, after all, not a very strong opponent, but that argumentwould have been wasted. Besides, while Oak Grove doubtless did showherself weak in one or two departments, it was still true that she hadpassed through a successful season, sustaining but one defeat, and thattwo weeks before she had held Kenly to a 6 to 9 score.

  It was the first full-period game of the season, and the sixty minutesof actual playing time was filled with excitement and, from an Altonpoint of view at least, pleasure. From the third or fourth minute ofthe contest, when Oak Grove fumbled on her forty yards and watchedPutney gobble up the ball and streak down the field for a touchdown,to the last twilighted moments when, her back to her goal, Alton, herline holding many substitutes, repelled the frenzied attacks of theenemy and finally punted out of danger, the interest never flagged.Jimmy stood eight yards behind the goal-line when he sent the ballcorkscrewing away into the gathering gloom, and even as it fell intothe anxious hands of the enemy quarter-back the last whistle sounded.The score at the end was 21 to 6.

  Ned Richards gained new fame that day, not by spectacular dashes, butby the truly remarkable manner in which he ran the team. There wereweak places in the line, there were faults of performance all through,but the generalship was of the best. Ned was steady in his catching ofpunts, too, and once or twice gained ground for his side, but it was asa commander of men and a strategist that Ned excelled. There were otherheroes beside Ned, though none were really outstanding. Perhaps whenall is said and done Jimmy deserved as much credit as any other playerin the last two periods. He entered the game when the third quarterwas a few minutes old and when, with the game secure by an 18 to 3score, it was thought best to kick rather than rush. Jimmy surprisedhis audience, perhaps even Jimmy, by the length of his punts and thedirection of them. Nothing hurried him or seemed to fluster him. Timeand again the ball escaped the upthrust hands of the charging enemyby an apparent miracle. But escape it always did. Jimmy had no kicksblocked.

  Harmon, at left half, Browne, at full-back, Nichols, at center, andRowlandson, at left guard, played top-notch football. Captain Proctorwas, as always, good, although to-day he was far from at his best. TheAlton ends were not up to the rest of the forwards, and the right ofthe line, especially after Raleigh had replaced Stimson at guard, wasdecidedly weak. Tackling was not of the best, the team was penalizedfar too often and there were times when even Ned’s most frantic effortsfailed to speed up the players. But the old fight was back again, theold will to win, and that brought victory. And victory brought joy tothe School.

  Even in the sudden turn from pessimism to cheerfulness, Alton didnot, however, swing to the extreme. No one, perhaps, yet looked for aconclusive victory over Kenly Hall next week. Many predicted a tie,some a triumph by a few points--perhaps a goal after touchdown or evena goal from the field. But the main thing was that the Gray-and-Goldhad shown that afternoon that, come what might, she was not to betrampled on; that, victor or vanquished, she would uphold the honor ofAlton and its proud traditions. So the student body took hope, and highspirits reigned. If Alton was not destined to win, at best the enemy’striumph was to be insignificant. That the School should find reason forrejoicing on so slight an excuse was, when one considered it, strange,for a preponderance of victories during recent years had endowed Altonwith a perhaps excusable arrogance. A more disinterested philosopherthan any of our characters might have told himself that a defeat forthe Gray-and-Gold would possibly prove an unpalatable but beneficialmedicine!

  Naturally enough a certain restraint existed between the roommates inNumber 27 Upton subsequent to Stick Patterson’s ultimatum. In spiteof being quite convinced that he was acting within his rights, Stickwas uncomfortable and showed it by acting in an unusually care-freeand careless manner which fooled neither him nor Russell. On his part,Russell, recognizing his friend’s privilege of selling his interestas he had indicated, tried to feel no sense of injury, failed and wasunnaturally polite and awkward in Stick’s presence. It was a reliefto both when either could avail himself of an excuse to get away.Fortunately for Russell football affairs took precedence over allelse during the next few days. The Best Second Team in the History ofAlton Academy was finishing its career at full steam, and Russell wassteaming with it. Monday and Tuesday saw battles royal between thefirst and the scrub. Wednesday’s meeting was less ferocious, since thenthe second was used as a battering ram and, given the ball time andagain on the first team’s ten yards, was instructed to carry it over.That success came but once, and then with the aid of a half-distancepenalty, spoke well for the big team’s reviving defense. Work wasinterrupted frequently while coaches explained and corrected, andunder such circumstances the old fury of battle was sadly wanting.Thursday, though, contrary to established custom, saw one final,glorious struggle. The second, knowing that it was the last, offeredlife and limb and fought as never before. More than once Coach Cadewas forced to intervene and caution in the interest of his chargesand Coach Gaston was obliged, unwillingly it appeared, to echo theremonstrance. That was a fine and fitting finish for the second, foralthough the first scored a touchdown and kicked a field-goal, thescrub team took the ball away from the enemy on the latter’s forty-twoyards and, growling and snarling, plunged and twisted, battered andhammered her way across nine almost obliterated white lines and set thepigskin behind the first team’s goal. That march was epic. Friendshipwas forgotten and no mercy was asked nor shown. Behind the retreating,amazed first team line Coach Cade barked passionate entreaties. In thewake of the second Steve Gaston, an unholy light of triumph on his leanface, roared hoarsely.

  “Fight! _Fight!_ FIGHT!” urged Steve. “Six yards more! You can do it,Second! Take it over! It’s your last chance! Don’t quit now! Smashthem! Smear them! Fight, Second.”

  To the cries of the coaches were added the panting expostulations,appeals, commands of the quarterbacks and captains and the hoarseclamors of the players. Wells, of the second, had found his oldeloquence once more and his voice sounded well above the bedlam. “Yah!Try that again, you mutton-face! Come on, Second! Tear ’em up! Lookout, you yellow curs, we’re coming through! Yah!”

  And then red-headed Reilly was flat on the yellowing sod, his legs intheir torn gray hose inside the field but his body in its sweat-stainedjacket well over and the pigskin nestled beneath him in a grip thatwould have resisted wild horses! No goal was kicked, none attempted.The last scrimmage was over. Friend and foe faced each other, panting,glaring, growling. A hushed moment passed. Then tense faces relaxed.The second swarmed together and beat each other’s backs and turnedsomersaults with the last ounce of remaining strength, shoutedwith what breath was left in their well-nigh empty lungs, and thefirst looked on with understanding at least. A few grins made theirappearance, gruesome efforts, maybe, on dirt-marked and sometimesbattered countenances. Then Captain Proctor, leaning heavily onRowlandson’s big shoulder, lifted a tired voice.

  “Regular ... cheer ... for the ... Second ... fellows!... All together!Come on!”

  And the second, grouping themselves about Captain Falls, came backheartily, and their season was over, the duties finished, their rest athand!

  But that was on Thursday, and before it happened other events hadoccurred which must be set down here. It was Tuesday night that Jimmyappeared hurriedly at Number 27 and, since Stick was seated across thetable from Russell, decoyed the latter into the corridor and thencedownstairs to a corner of the recreation room.

  “Look here,” he began when they were seated, “there may not be anythingin this, but I thought I’d better tell you. You know that fellowThrogmorton? Well, I’ve just discovered that he and Billy Crock
er areas thick as thieves. I happened to see them together in the villagethis morning. They went into the drug store across the street. Haddrinks, I suppose. Then I asked Stimson this evening at table; he roomsin the same corridor with Throgmorton; and Stimson says those two aregreat pals. Crocker’s at Throgmorton’s room half the time.”

  Russell stared blankly. “You mean--”

  “Well, what do you think? Here’s this old geezer, Crocker, trying toput you out of business. Patterson gets an offer for his interest fromThrogmorton. Throgmorton is young Crocker’s pal. Smell a rat?”

  Russell nodded. “Still,” he said, “I don’t see--why, even ifThrogmorton bought Stick out--”

  “Why, he’d sell to old Crocker again the next minute! Throgmortondoesn’t want to buy in for himself. I don’t believe he’s got anyhundred and fifty to his name. Billy Crocker has probably arrangedthe whole transaction. He picked on Throgmorton because Throgmortonwouldn’t arouse suspicion and you wouldn’t dream that old man Crockerwas behind him. But Billy made the silly mistake of letting me see themtogether; and that got me thinking.”

  “I guess you’re right,” agreed Russell dejectedly. “Although even ifMr. Crocker owns a minority interest he can’t do much damage, can he?I’ve still got the say about things. I don’t mean that it would be verypleasant--”

  “Wake up, son! How long do you suppose you’d keep on doing business ifold Crocker wanted to close you up? He’d find plenty of ways to put thestore on the blink. No, sir, it won’t do, Rus, and you’ve got to findsome way of fooling ’em.”

  “You’re right, Jimmy. Well, I don’t believe that Stick will sell toThrogmorton when I tell him this. He’s a pretty decent sort, after all.He will be disappointed--”

  Jimmy laughed incredulously. “Why, you silly chump, Stick Pattersondoes know! At least, I’m pretty sure he does. I’ll bet he and oldCrocker fixed it up between them.”

  “Oh, no, I don’t believe that,” Russell expostulated. “I don’t believeStick has ever even spoken with Mr. Crocker.”

  Jimmy looked puzzled. “Hasn’t spoken to him? Why, how about that timewhen Crocker was in the store? Saturday before last, wasn’t it?”

  Russell looked blank. “Saturday? You mean that Mr. Crocker was in ourstore and talked to Stick? Are you sure?”

  “Of course. J. Warren told me. Said the old guy was there half an houror more talking with Patterson. He couldn’t tell what they were talkingabout, but he said it looked like something important. I thought ofcourse Patterson had told you.”

  Russell shook his head. “He didn’t say a word about it,” he repliedsoberly. He was silent a moment. Then, “I wouldn’t have thought it ofStick,” he sighed.

  “I don’t know that I would,” said Jimmy. “He doesn’t seem quite such acut-throat as that. But it certainly looks--”

  “Yes, I guess he fixed it up with Mr. Crocker. Well, if he did thereisn’t anything I can do. There’s no use asking him not to sell.”

  “Of course not. Now I’ve been mulling it over ever since I talked withStimson. What you want to do is buy out Stick yourself.”

  “Yes, but I can’t. I don’t dare take enough money out of the bank,Jimmy. It would leave me flat, and--”

  “Wait a sec! What about Patterson? Will he give you until to-morrownoon, say?”

  “Oh, yes, I think so. He said I could have until Wednesday to buy himout. To-morrow’s Wednesday, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, if it doesn’t rain. Now listen. Here’s a proposition. I haven’tworked it out yet, but-- Look, Rus! You see Patterson right away andmake him agree not to sell until twelve to-morrow. By that time you’llhave the money.”

  “I’ll have the money,” agreed Russell. “Of course. Some one’s going todie and leave it to me, I suppose.”

  “Shut up! I’ll get it for you. Listen, idiot.” Jimmy dropped his voiceanother note, although the nearest person was a small boy half thelength of the long room away. “I’ll jump the ten-twenty train to-night.That’ll get me to New York at twelve-forty. I’ll put up at a hotel andbe downtown at nine in the morning. Dad always gets to his office atten past. That’ll give me thirty-six minutes to see him and get thenine-forty-six back. That gets here at eleven-thirty-three. I’ll take acarriage--”

  “Are you crazy?” interrupted Russell.

  Jimmy chuckled. “Not a bit. It’s a cinch. You stall Patterson off untiltwelve--”

  “But your father isn’t going to let you have a hundred and twenty-fivedollars for a crazy business like this!”

  “Oh, yes, he is. He’s a good sort, dad is. I can get a check from himand make that express easy.”

  “But, Jimmy, you’re sick in the head! A hundred and twenty-five dollarsis a lot of money. Even if your father happened to have that much tospare right now he wouldn’t--”

  “Huh?” Jimmy looked surprised. “To spare? Oh, I see.” He grinned then.“Rus, you don’t happen to know who my dad is, do you?” Russell shookhis head. “He’s Austen of Austen and Cooper.”

  “Is he?” asked Russell, unimpressed.

  “Oh, gee,” laughed Jimmy, “you’re no New Yorker, are you? Well, Austenand Cooper are a couple of disgustingly wealthy old men, Rus. That’senough for them. Anyway, dad is pretty sure to be able to dig up ahundred and twenty-five, and he will let me have it, all right, when Itell him what it’s for.”

  “Oh!” said Russell. “But, look here, Jimmy, I couldn’t take a loan ofthat size!”

  “Why not? Oh, very well, we won’t argue about that. I’ll buyPatterson’s interest from you as soon as you get it from him. That isif you don’t object to me as a partner. Of course I wouldn’t be a veryactive partner after next June, but we could make some arrangementthat would be fair to you. The main thing now is--”

  “But have you got permission to go to New York?” interrupted Russell.

  Jimmy grinned and shook his head. “Permission? I couldn’t get it if Itried, you idiot. And I’ve no notion of trying. No, what I do is justunostentatiously walk away about half-past nine. No one’s going toknow anything about it. I’ll have to cut chapel and two classes in themorning, but I’ve been a pretty good boy so far this term and that’llbe all right. I’ll be around for dinner and no one need know I’ve beenaway.”

  “I don’t like it,” protested Russell. “Suppose Coach Cade got wind ofit?”

  Jimmy sobered perceptibly and then shrugged. “Let’s not be Glooms,” hesaid, grinning. “Of course there’s a slight risk, but the end excusesthe means, or whatever the saying is. What time is it now?” He lookedat his watch.

  “Never you mind what time it is,” said Russell firmly. “You’re notgoing to do it, Jimmy. It’s corking of you to want to, and all that,and I’m awfully much obliged to you, but you’re staying right here.”

  “Nonsense!”

  “Yes, you are! Look here, Jimmy. If Mr. Cade ever found out you knowwhat would happen. You’d be dumped off the team in a minute. No matterif you were the mainstay of it, the only fellow who could win us avictory over Kenly, you’d go just the same. You know that. You knowJohnny Cade well enough. Isn’t it so?”

  “Possibly, but he isn’t going to know.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “How?”

  “I shall tell him.”

  They eyed each other straightly for a moment. Then:

  “You mean that?” asked Jimmy.

  “Yes.”

  Jimmy shrugged. “All right. That’s that. Only thing left to do istelegraph.”

  “How about telephoning?”

  “No good. I thought of that. This is Tuesday and dad will be in town.I’ll send a wire to the office, but I don’t believe the money will gethere in time. I’ll try it, though. I’ll ask him to telegraph it. Nowlet’s see.” Jimmy crossed to a writing table and brought back a sheetof paper. While he frowned and wrote, erased and rewrote Russell fellinto thought. He didn’t really believe that Jimmy would get the money,and he sought in his mind for some other way out of the dilemma. He
had said that there would be nothing gained by an appeal to Stick, andyet perhaps he was wrong. At least, he would try the appeal. In spiteof some faults, Stick had heretofore always acted straight. Russell’scogitations were interrupted by Jimmy, who thrust the written messagein a pocket and got to his feet.

  “I’ll cut across to the telegraph office and get this off,” Jimmyannounced. “Come along?”

  Russell shook his head. “I guess not. I think I’ll have a talk withStick.”

  “We-ell, all right. Going to the cheer meeting?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “See you in the morning, anyway. Don’t forget to get Patterson to holdoff until twelve to-morrow; later, if he’s willing. And keep your headup, Rus. We’ll pull it off all right.”