CHAPTER XX
THE CLOCK COMES BACK
They worked on the grandstand even during the morning of the day whenthe Canton Military game was to be played, and then the tired butsatisfied students laid aside their hammers and saws, picked up thescattered nails, and sighed with relief.
"It was a big job--bigger than I thought it was when I proposed it,"spoke Tom, "and I'm glad it's over."
"So am I," added Holly. "We'll take in some money, now. I hear there's abig crowd coming."
"We may have to take some of our funds for the relief of the college, ifthings keep on," remarked Kindlings. "There was another meeting of thefaculty this morning, about that law and claim business."
"Is that so?" asked Phil. "Caesar's ghost! but things aren't doing athing but happening to Randall!"
"Well, it's always darkest just before daylight," observed Sid, and thenthe coach came along, and ordered them all out to light practice, inpreparation for the game soon to be played.
Tom and his two chums were on their way from the gymnasium, refreshedby a shower bath, and were going to their room, to rest a bit beforeappearing on the gridiron with their team mates.
"Did you find out anything more about Lenton, Tom?" asked Phil, for ithad been agreed that Tom was to do a little detective work concerningthe queer lad and his files.
"No, nothing of any account," he answered. "I talked with some of thefellows who room next to him, and all they could tell me was that he isalways tinkering on something or other. He's making some kind of anelectrical machine, Perkins said, and he keeps buzzing away at it halfthe night. He's a queer Dick, all right, but I don't know that he hadanything to do with the taking of our clock and chair."
"I've got my suspicions," declared Phil. "I'm mighty sure he made thatfalse key to our room, anyhow, and I'm going to put it up to him sometime soon."
"Oh, I wouldn't," advised Sid. "It might make trouble."
"Well, didn't he--or someone--make trouble for us?" asserted thequarter-back. "But I'll be pretty sure of my ground before I make anycracks. Now for a rest, and then----"
"A good fight!" finished Tom, stretching out his arms. "I hope we wallop'em good!"
As both Captain Woodhouse and Mr. Lighton were sure of the ability ofRandall to beat the military eleven, a number of the substitute playerswere allowed to go on the 'varsity team, much to their delight, for theywere hungry for a scrimmage.
There was a record-breaking crowd, and the rebuilt grandstand was taxedto its capacity. Though the Canton game was one of the minor contests,it always drew well, and was quite a society function, for the schoolwas an exclusive one. The cadets, in their natty uniforms, came almostin a body, and of course the girls were there in "beautiful bunches," asHolly Cross said. Not only damsels from the military school town, butfrom Fairview and from Haddonfield.
"I tell you what it is," said Holly, as he was practicing with hismates; "'uniforms git gals,' as the schoolboy once wrote in hiscomposition. 'If you can't be a soldier, be a policeman, for uniformsgit girls.'"
"It's got 'em here to-day, all right," observed Sid. "I hope that----"
"That the heads of our particular girls aren't turned by any of thecadets," finished Phil, with a laugh.
The game was on, and it was seen that, while Randall had every chanceof beating, she would have no easy contest for the victory. The cadetsplayed with a beautiful precision, and their team work was somethingthat made Coach Lighton sigh in vain.
"Why can't I get our fellows to play like that?" he asked in despair ofCaptain Woodhouse, during a lull in the game, when one of the cadets hadthe wind knocked out of him.
"It's because of the changes so late in the season," declared Kindlings."We miss Kerr and Bricktop."
"Well, go on in and do 'em up," advised the coach, as the referee'swhistle blew. "Don't let 'em score on you."
"Not if I know it," answered the captain.
The game was resumed fiercely. Knowing they had little chance to winthe game, the cadets devoted all their energies to trying to score.They wanted at least one touchdown, or a field goal, and Randall wasdetermined they should have neither.
In the first ten minutes of play, Randall had shoved the ball overthe line, and the goal was kicked. Then, after some rushing tactics,which demonstrated that the cadets' line was stronger than at firstappeared, Phil gave the signals for some kicking plays. But it was soondemonstrated that Canton was almost as good at this as was her rival,and while it was desired to get some practicing in punting and dropwork, it was deemed too dangerous.
"Straight football," ordered the captain to the quarter-back, and thegame went on in that style.
There were several forward passes, that netted good gains, and theonside kick was tried, until a fumble nearly resulted in Canton scoring,and then it was not used again.
Up the field the Randallites rushed the ball, not so fast nor so easilybut what they felt the strain, and soon there was another touchdownagainst the cadets. There was almost another in the first half, but thewhistle cut the play short, and the nearest the military lads had beento scoring was when they tried for a field goal, and failed, because Sidbroke through and blocked the kick.
With indomitable energy, the cadets went at their opponents again in thesecond half. Several fresh players were put in, and Captain Woodhouseallowed other substitutes to try their abilities.
This nearly proved the scratching down of a score against Randall, asthe new lads did not hold well in line, and they were being shoved backfor a loss, when Phil called for some kicking tactics. This took theball out of danger, and soon our friends had again crossed the militarygoal line.
It was characteristic of the pluck of the Canton lads that they nevergave up. At it again they went, hammer and tongs, giving their heavierrivals no rest. It was a much more "scrappy" game from the point ofplaying, than had been expected, and on occasions excitement ran high.Several times Randall was penalized for holding in the line, or foroff-side play, but this was due to the eagerness of the substitutes, whohad not the seasoned judgment of the 'varsity men.
The game was drawing to a close, amid a riot of songs and cheers.Randall had rolled up a big enough score to satisfy even the exactingcoach, and there were but a few more minutes left to play. Canton hadthe ball, it being given to her on a penalty, and they were just overthe centre line, in the Randall territory. There came a signal, and theCanton left half-back was sent charging into the line between Sam Looperand Bert Bascome.
Whose fault it was no one stopped to figure out, but there was a bighole opened, Sam was sent sprawling to one side, with Bascome on top ofhim, and the man with the ball was through the line, running like a deerfor the Randall goal line.
Sid Henderson tried for a tackle, and missed, and then George Carter,who was playing full, got ready to throw the man with the ball. Butthe latter proved to be a player of exceptional ability, and speedingstraight at the full-back, he suddenly dodged, so that Carter, who madea dive for him, also missed, and went sprawling.
There was now not a player between the Canton man and the goal line.Like mad, his friends leaped to their feet, and sent cheer after cheerringing into the air.
"Touchdown! Touchdown! Touchdown!" was the frenzied yell.
"After him!" shouted Captain Woodhouse. "Don't let him touch it down,fellows!"
He was running desperately, but speed was not his strong point. TomParsons, however, was on the alert. There was not many who could beathim at the scudding game, and he tore off over the white marks after thecadet, with a fierce desire to pull him down in his tracks. It was ahard race, but Tom won, and grappled his man in a fierce tackle frombehind, not two yards from the goal line. Down they went heavily, lyingthere for a few seconds, the breath knocked from them both.
"Do--down!" gasped the cadet, and there were tears in his eyes, for itmeant the end of the hope of his school.
"Too bad, old man," spoke Tom kindly, "but we really couldn't allow it,you know. It was a good try, though."
The other did not answer. He still had the ball, and there was anotherline-up, but before the play could be made, the whistle blew, andRandall's goal line was still inviolate.
"How'd he get through?" demanded Captain Woodhouse, when the cheeringwas over, and the players were going to the dressing rooms.
"He got through between Bascome and me," said the unlucky Snail.
"It wasn't my fault," declared the tackle. "He just pushed Sam over. Itwasn't my fault."
"Well, it was _somebody's_ fault," grumbled the captain, "and if ithappens again, something else will happen."
There was quite a jolly time after the game, in spite of the defeat ofthe military lads, and the left half-back, who had made the sensationalrun, and who had so nearly scored, was properly lionized.
"When are you going to have another little dance, girls?" asked Tom, ofRuth Clinton and her two friends.
"When you boys have another fire at Randall," was the quick answer.
The little party of students had some refreshments together, and then,as a little shower came up, the crowd scurried for shelter, the girlsgoing back to Fairview.
"Well, it was a pretty good game, all right," remarked Tom, as he andhis chums were walking down the corridor to their room.
"Pretty fair," admitted Phil. "Hold on a minute, fellows; I want to seesomething."
"What?" asked Tom.
"If there are any more keys in the door," answered the quarter-back,"and also whether anyone is in there. Listen!"
They approached their portal cautiously, and waited in silence for amoment, but heard no sound. Then they entered, finding no false key inthe lock.
But, no sooner were the chums in their apartment, than they were madeaware of something strange. As if by common impulse, they came to a stopin the middle of the floor. Then Tom cried:
"Listen! Our old clock! The alarm clock!"
A loud ticking was heard--a tick different from that of the mahoganytimepiece. Tom switched on the light.
There, on the mantle, in the place where it had always rested, was theirbattered old relic! They gazed at it, scarcely able to believe theireyes. Then Sid remarked:
"The clock has come back!"
"And only increases the mystery," added Tom, slowly.
The Winning Touchdown: A Story of College Football Page 20
