The boys of Columbia High on the gridiron; or, The struggle for the silver cup


CHAPTER II

ON THE ROAD TO TOWN

"Hello, Ralph, through practice here? Then walk home with me, and take supper at the house, won't you? I've got some things I want to talk over with you."

"Yes, we're done working, and I'll be glad to walk with you; but if I'm to sit down at your table, you'll have to wait for me to dress and clean myself. Will we have time?" And Ralph's face told how much he appreciated a chance to spend an evening at the home of Frank Allen, his friend and chum; for his boarding house room did look a bit cheerless at night time.

"Plenty of time, old fellow. How did the practice go to-day? Getting in trim, do you think?" asked Frank, who, as a senior, and the captain and full-back of the regular football squad, was supposed to have an intense interest in everything that took place on the practice field day by day.

"Oh, pretty well, I think. I'm not wholly satisfied with myself, but I believe I'm improving every day," replied the other, modestly.

Frank looked sideways at his friend, and smiled. He had just been talking with the coach, and heard what he had to say about the scrub team. It was already understood between them that two of the regulars must give way to better men who shone as stars on the scrub. Columbia wanted her best sons in front, regardless of any favoritism.

Coach Willoughby was back again, visiting at the home of Buster Billings' folks. He said the "lure of the leather" was too much for him, bringing back those dear old college days when he played on the Princeton eleven, and carried the ball over Yale's line for a hard-fought victory.

And so he had consented to take charge of the Columbia players, and help them get in condition for the work ahead, when they were to meet the brawny cohorts of Clifford, and those others from Bellport.

Frank and Ralph had not gone more than fifty yards down the dusty road leading from the recreation field to the town center, perhaps a full mile away, when Ralph felt a sharp tug at his arm.

"Hello! what's this?" he said, looking down at a small girl, who seemed so shy that her face was covered with blushes as she pulled at his sleeve.

"Please, Mr. West, I'd like to say something to you," she said, hesitatingly.

"Why, it's Madge Smalling, Mary's older sister!" exclaimed Ralph, showing new interest.

In the Spring he had been instrumental in finding a little girl who had hurt herself seriously, in the woods. At the time, Ralph was on his way to the recreation field, where he was expected to pitch a game against a rival school. Still, as he could not think of leaving the child there to suffer, he had carried her to the mill where her father was employed.

Since that time, he had been a welcome visitor at the home of the Smallings, and, of course, was well known to this girl of nine, who had been away at the time of Mary's adventure.

"Shall I walk on," asked Frank, with a wink, "because, you know, there are times when two is company, three none."

"None of your joshing, now," said Ralph, and then, turning to the child, he continued: "I hope nothing is wrong over at your house, Madge?"

"Oh, no, sir. It wasn't that. I heard something about you, and I wanted to tell you right away, 'cause I'm afraid of that bad boy. Once he threw water on me, and laughed when I cried. Then he put a nasty cold frog in my hand, and made me hold it ever so long."

Ralph looked at his friend. "Whoever can she mean, and what has that got to do with me?" he said, wonderingly.

"The other boy called him Asa," remarked Madge, quickly.

"Oh, now I begin to see light. And was the second chap called Tony?" Ralph asked.

"Oh, yes, that was it. I saw them coming along the road, and I was afraid that he had another nasty frog. So I hid behind a log," the child went on, her face showing the deep interest she felt in her own recital.

"Say, Frank, this grows exciting. Tony and Asa walking along with their heads close together means trouble for someone, perhaps even me. And this little girl, hiding behind a log, hears them plotting. Now, what d'ye think of that for thrilling a fellow's nerve? What did they say, Madge? Can you remember?" he asked, looking down into the girl's face reassuringly, and stroking her tangled hair.

"Oh, I didn't understand it all, but they hated you, and said they must get some other bad boys to beat you, so you couldn't play ball again. If you only saw his face when he said that! It was so fierce I just shivered. I hope they don't do it to you, Mr. West. It would be worse than a nasty, cold frog."

Again the two lads exchanged glances.

"Aha!" chuckled Frank, "the plot thickens. Tony feels the chill of coming events, and wants to make sure that you will never displace him on the regular team. I'm not so much surprised, though. It wouldn't be the first time a candidate has been marked for assault in the hope of putting him out of the running. An ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure. And since we know now what is in the wind, we must be doubly on our guard. I suspected that some of them, Lef Seller and his crowd, perhaps, might have it in for me, but it seems that you are the goat, Ralph."

"Well, I'm ever so much obliged to Madge here for telling me. And next time I come out to her house I'm going to fetch along a box of candy to pay the debt," said Ralph, kindly.

"You always do that, anyway," declared the child, promptly, at which Frank burst into another laugh.

"Oh, all your secrets will come out, one by one, old fellow. I think I'll have to post my sister Helen on your double dealing. She might be jealous of Mary and Madge," he declared.

"Don't you worry. Helen has walked out there with me more than once. They're all very fond of your sister, Frank," declared Ralph, blushing a little.

"Well, you don't blame them, do you?" asked the brother, promptly; which caused his friend to bend down to shake hands and bid the little maid good-by.

As the two boys tramped along toward Frank's home, they naturally talked again of the unpleasant news that had been brought to their attention in so singular a way.

"I wish I knew just what to do about it," said Frank, frowning with displeasure, "It's certainly a most unsportsmanlike spirit to show, knocking your school colors, because you can't play. I call that a rule-or-ruin policy. Do you suppose, if we told the boys, it would put a stop to the nasty game?"

"We have no proof, for they wouldn't be apt to take a child's word for much. So I'm afraid it wouldn't be just the wisest thing to tell it broadcast," answered the serious Ralph.

"Anyhow, I mean to take a few of my special friends into council, and warn them what we're up against. From this time on you need a guardian squad, Ralph," the other went on.

"Why me more than any other fellow?" asked Ralph.

"I'll tell you, though I meant to keep it until to-night. Coach Willoughby finally made up his mind, though nobody knows it but myself. He means to drop two fellows off the team to-morrow—Tony Gilpin and George Andersen; the former because he fails to come up to the scratch, and George on account of that old injury to his leg, which is cropping up again. He was our star player last year, and we are going to miss him a heap."

"Yes, I supposed poor George would have to go, but expected Tony would hold on," remarked Ralph, quietly.

"And the coach has decided that you are to take the place of Tony as left half-back. I'm awful glad of it! I purposely kept my hands off, because I wanted merit and not favoritism to bring the change about. Shake on it, Ralph!"

"And I'm glad, too," remarked the other, his voice quivering a little with his emotion; "not that I like to supplant any other fellow, but I believe it's only right that every one of Columbia's sons should cherish an earnest desire to make the best of what there is in him. I only hope the coach isn't making a serious mistake, that's all."

"I know he isn't, and the other fellows will say so, too, when they hear. Tony isn't a popular player at all, and when there is dissension in a baseball nine or a football eleven, it's going to make trouble. 'Beware the worm i' the bud,' you know. But these cowards may find that they're up against a tougher proposition than they suspect, before they're done with it."

Frank was even more indignant at the possibility of peril overhanging the head of his chum, than if it had threatened himself. That is ever the way with generous souls.

"Three days more, and then comes Clifford after our scalp," remarked Ralph, desirous of dropping the unpleasant subject for the time being.

"Yes, and although Bellport beat them last Saturday 17 to 4, we mustn't imagine Clifford is going to be an easy mark for us. Perhaps they may fancy our style of play, and rub it all over us. Nobody can say until we've met, and fought it out," was Frank's sagacious remark.

"I agree with you on that score," declared his companion: "Clifford was unfortunate in many ways. She lost three of her best men through accidents, while Bellport did not. Then some people hint that her secret signals were given away, because the Bellport players seemed to be ready to meet every sudden move Clifford made."

"Yes, I heard that, too, and while I hate to believe any fellow could be so low as to betray his school to the enemy, it's been done before. We must be doubly on our guard against such a thing. I've been thinking up a little scheme that would upset anything like that. But we haven't started with signals yet, keeping that until to-morrow, when the real team as selected will come together."

"I can guess what you've got in mind, Frank, but I'm not asking questions. Only I do hope nothing prevents me from going into that game. Somehow, all my life I've just longed to be a football player. There's something about the game that seems to just stir me up, as even baseball couldn't. And yet nobody would call me a scrapper either," remarked Ralph.

"Oh, it isn't that always. Lots of good football players are quiet, modest fellows, ready to mind their own business, if let alone. I guess it must be something in a fellow's nature that makes him long to buck up against difficulties, and down them. And seeing that you've always been so quiet and unassuming a fellow, I hardly know how to apply that to you, either. It's just born in a man, that's what," and Frank clapped his hand affectionately on his chum's shoulder.

Others were streaming along the road at the same time, homeward bound.

"Look out, here comes a vehicle back of us," said Ralph presently, when they were about half-way to Columbia Center.

They stepped to the side of the road, to allow the carriage to pass.

"Why, it's Minnie Cuthbert and a friend!" said Ralph, suddenly.

At that Frank turned hastily, the color flying to his face like magic; for that same name always had a wonderful influence over him, since he and Minnie had long been the warmest of friends.

The pretty girl who held the reins urged her horse on. There was a look in her face that Frank had never seen there before. She stared straight at him, as he took off his cap and bowed, but not by the slightest sign did she give any evidence of being aware that such a person as Frank Allen existed.

It was the cut direct!

Ralph uttered an exclamation of amazement. Quickly he glanced at his chum, to see that Frank had gone deadly white, and his eyes glittered with sudden spasm of pain that seized upon him.

He drew a long breath, and tried to get a grip on himself.

"Say, that hurt some, I tell you, Ralph. I never expected to be cut by Minnie Cuthbert, that's sure," he said, between his set teeth.

Ralph was sorely puzzled. He remembered that Minnie really owed her life to the wonderful presence of mind of Frank, when a runaway horse had threatened to bring disaster down upon her.

"What's happened?" he asked, eyeing his friend.

"You know as much as I do. It's a mystery to me," returned Frank.

"Perhaps Lef Seller could tell; he's just back of us, and I heard him laugh as he saw Minnie drive past without speaking," suggested the other, meaningly.

"I wonder now if history has a habit of repeating itself," ventured Frank. "But what can I do but grin and bear it? Sooner or later she'll find out the truth. I'll never ask for an explanation, knowing that I've done nothing to make her act so. Now, forget it, and let's talk about your affairs, Ralph."




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