Dick Merriwell's Trap; Or, The Chap Who Bungled

by Burt L. Standish

  CHAPTER XXVIII--A SLIPPERY TRICK

  In the following manner the two teams faced each other on that dark,wet, dreary Saturday afternoon:

  -------------------------------------- FARDALE SPRINGVALE -------------------------------------- Shannock Right end Porter -------------------------------------- Jolliby Right tackle Kinter -------------------------------------- Bradley Right guard Sheehan -------------------------------------- Tubbs Center Rouke -------------------------------------- Dare Left guard Mahoney -------------------------------------- Gardner Left tackle Reed -------------------------------------- Buckhart Left end Huckley -------------------------------------- Smart Quarter-back Eyster -------------------------------------- Merriwell Right Sampson half-back -------------------------------------- Darrell Left Nelson half-back -------------------------------------- Singleton Full-back Austin --------------------------------------

  A snow-storm had been threatening, but had turned to a rain-storm, theweather becoming milder. It was not a downpour--just a weak, unpleasantdrizzle.

  But a drizzle could not keep the cadets from turning out to witness thegame. They packed the seats reserved for them. There was not the usuallarge gathering of spectators from the village and surrounding country,although the attendance was not light.

  The visitors were the first to come trotting out on the field. They woresome sort of leathery-looking suits, and in the rain those suitsglistened strangely. They did not resort to the practise of falling onthe ball in warming up, but passed the ball from hand to hand and did alittle kicking.

  The Fardale team came jogging out in their well-worn suits. They went atthe preliminary practise in the usual manner.

  Brad Buckhart squinted at the New Era players, a peculiar expression onhis face.

  "Whatever sort of suits have they got on?" he said, turning to Jolliby.

  "Ask me sus-sus-sus-something I cuc-cuc-can answer," stuttered the tallboy.

  "This rain makes 'em shine like grease," said Brad. "They're aqueer-looking bunch."

  The cadets had given their team a cheer on its appearance. The band wasnot out. But the boys were prepared to sing and root in earnest.

  Dick Merriwell had looked the enemy over. One of the fellows attractedhis attention. When he drew aside with the referee and the captain ofthe visiting team, he said:

  "Captain Huckley, there is a man on your team whom I know to be aslugger, as well as a professional. His name is Porter. I have playedbaseball against him, and know what he is."

  "Porter?" said Huckley, not at all pleased. "I think you must bemistaken about his character. He's all right."

  "Then he has changed greatly for the better," said Dick. "He has nogreat liking for me. I had some trouble with him once."

  "Well, you can't ask me to break up my team just because you happened tohave some trouble with one of the men on it."

  "I don't ask you to break the team up; but you may find it a good planto give Porter warning to play straight football. Those fellows up thereon the seats won't stand for crooked work."

  "That's all right," came with a sneer from Huckley. "We'll have a snapwith your little team to-day, Captain Merriwell. There won't be any needof our resorting to anything but the simplest kind of football."

  "That remains to be demonstrated. Perhaps you may change your mindlater."

  "Time is passing," said the referee. "The game will begin late now."

  "We're ready," announced Dick grimly. "Flip the coin. Mr. Huckley maycall it."

  "Heads," said Huckley, as the coin spun in the air.

  "Tails," announced the referee. "Your choice, Captain Merriwell."

  There was not much wind, and Dick decided to kick off. So Fardale tookthe ball and the eastern goal to defend.

  Singleton kicked, but, in spite of the fact that there was no wind, theball flew off to one side and went out of bounds. When it was broughtback the big fellow took plenty of time and smashed it hard and fair.

  Up into the air and away sailed the ball. Over the muddy field racedBuckhart and Shannock.

  Sampson caught the ball. He made no attempt to return the kick, butleaped forward.

  Buckhart seemed to have the fellow foul. He tackled, but somehow hefailed to hold the fellow, his hands slipping off in a most surprisingway.

  Sampson dashed onward.

  Gardner fancied he saw his opportunity. He closed in on the runner andmade a beautiful leap for a tackle.

  "He's got him!" cried the cadets.

  But, although Gardner's hands fell fairly on the runner, he was unableto hold Sampson, who slipped away from him and still kept on.

  Darrell was the third man to tackle the runner, and he brought him down,although Sampson nearly slipped from his grasp in the struggle. But NewEra had carried the ball back to her forty-yard line.

  "Whatever have those galoots got on?" growled Buckhart, as he hurried toget into the line-up. "Why, I tackled the fellow all right, but he wentout of my hands like grease."

  Gardner said nothing. He felt chagrined over his failure to stopSampson. There was plenty of confidence in the New Era players as theylined up for the scrimmage.

  There was a sudden signal, a single word spoken, and the ball wassnapped and passed to Sampson.

  The runner went straight into Fardale's center, which was the strongestpoint of the home team's line.

  Those fellows in the shiny suits hit the line hard, and Sampson camethrough on the jump. It seemed that a dozen hands grabbed him, but hetwisted and squirmed and slipped away and kept on for ten yards beforebeing stopped. Merriwell was in the scrimmage, and he made a startlingdiscovery.

  "Boys!" he palpitated, as they prepared to line up again, "their suitsare greased!"

  It was a fact!

  The leather suits, each suit made in one piece, were greased! Thatexplained how it was that the tacklers had been unable to hold the manwho carried the ball even when they clutched him with their hands.

  That explained how Sampson had been able to slip through the center ofFardale's line when many hands were placed upon him to restrain him.

  If anything, the dampness added to the slippery condition of the leathersuits, and the New Era players were like a lot of greased pigs.

  Merriwell was thunderstruck. Never had he heard of such a trick, andwhen the truth dawned upon him he felt completely nonplused.

  New Era gave Fardale little time for thought. She had the cadets"going," and she meant to keep up the work. Again a word was spoken as asignal, and again the ball went to Sampson. There was a rush towardcenter, but Sampson circled to come around the right end.

  Dick dashed to meet the fellow. He doubted if it would be possible tohold Sampson if he made a fair tackle. Therefore, as Sampson came roundthe end Dick charged him at full speed, plunged into him heavily andbowled him over.

  The ball flew from Sampson's hands.

  Dick had expected the shock, and he recovered in a most amazing manner.With a dive, he caught up the ball and leaped away.

  A New Era man grabbed for him. He thrust out his hand, caught the fellowunder the chin and pushed him off with a thrust that actually lifted himoff his feet.

  Another came down on Dick, but Merriwell was like a cat on his feet anddodged away.

  "I must do it!" thought Dick, as he darted toward the enemy's goal-line.

  They were after him. They sought to pen him in. He flew through them.The cadets rose on their seats and roared.

  "Go, Merriwell!" they
shrieked. "Go on, Merriwell!"

  Considering the condition of the field, considering the fact that therewere pools of water and the ground was wet and slippery, Dick's speedwas surprising. His dodging was even more surprising. It seemed thatDick was certain of getting through for a touchdown.

  Austin cut down on him from one direction. Dick got past the visitingfull-back. Then, with a clear field before him, he turned to makestraight for the goal.

  The other players, spread out and strung out, were coming after him. Inthat moment, when success seemed certain, Dick slipped. He had kept hisfeet in turning, twisting and dodging, but now he slipped and came neargoing down. He was up and away again, but Austin was close upon him.

  "He'll make it!"

  "No, he won't!"

  "Austin has him!"

  It was true that Austin had made a beautiful tackle, catching Dick aboutthe legs and bringing him down so near the goal-line that another boundwould have carried the ball over.

  Then the pursuing players came pouring down upon them. In the lead wasPorter, New Era's right end.

  Porter jumped into the air to come down on Dick with both feet,evidently hoping to put Captain Merriwell out of the game.

  As Porter jumped into the air Dick rolled to one side, seeking to breakAustin's hold on his legs.

  That saved him from serious injury. Porter struck him with one footonly, and then, as he reeled to fall, Brad Buckhart booted him with allthe strength of a muscular leg, lifting him clean over the goal-line.

  There was a mad roar of rage from the cadets who had witnessed Porter'sdastardly act. Another roar of satisfaction as they saw Buckhart liftthe fellow with a swinging kick. Then it seemed that those watching ladswould rush down from the seats and come pouring on to the field.

  "Hold them back!" cried Professor Broad, the athletic instructor andmaster of the gym.

  Thirty or forty lads, many of them wearing chevrons on their sleeves,joined with Professor Broad in restraining the excited witnesses.

  On the field it seemed that a fight was imminent. Some of the New Eramen wanted to tackle Buckhart, and he promptly invited them to come on.

  "Sail right in, you galoots!" he cried, swinging his clenched fists inthe air. "If that's the kind of game you want to play, you'll get allthat is coming to you! You hear me shout!"

  Captain Huckley restrained his men.

  "The whole thing was unintentional," he said.

  "Not on my part," promptly confessed Brad. "I kicked the onery skunk,and I meant to do it, you bet! He tried to stamp out my pard, and I'dshot him full of holes if I'd had a gun!"

  From behind the ropes where he was being held in check, ChesterArlington cried:

  "That's the stuff, Buckhart! Get at him again!"

  The excited cadets had been checked, but they were standing, lookingblack enough as they glared through the rain at the mud-bespatteredplayers.

  "Put him off the team!"

  Somebody raised the cry, a dozen caught it up, it swelled louder andlouder, it rose to a mad roar for the removal of Porter.

  "Put him off! Put him off! Put him off!"

  "Are you all right, captain?" asked big Bob Singleton, who had pulledMerriwell to his feet.

  "All right," assured Dick, squirming a little. "Nearly lost a rib, butI'm all right."

  "Porter jumped you with both feet. It was lucky you rolled just as youdid."

  "Porter, eh? Where's Captain Huckley?"

  "Here," was the answer.

  "You know what I said about that fellow. He----"

  "No use to fuss about him now," said Huckley. "The umpire disqualifiedhim. He's out of the game."

  This was true, and a substitute had been called to take Porter's place.

  The game went on, Fardale lining up with the ball within two yards ofNew Era's goal.

  The ball was snapped and passed back to Darrell. In a most surprisingmanner, two or three of New Era's forwards slipped through Fardale'sline and had Hal before he could make an advance. Down he went. A lossof three yards! This was bad work.

  "Hold fast in the line," urged Dick. "Don't let them through like that!"

  "Talk about greased lightning!" grumbled Harry Dare.

  "Can't hold them," said Gardner desperately. "Hands slip right off!"

  "Whatever sort of a game is this?" growled Brad Buckhart, in deepestdisgust. "Are they allowed to wear suits like that? Are they allowed togrease themselves so a fellow can't get hold of them at all?"

  The New Era players laughed in the faces of the Fardale lads.

  "There are some things about this game you chaps do not know," sneeredDurban, who had taken Porter's place.

  "We may be able to teach you a trick or two before the game ends," flungback Buckhart.

  But Fardale could not seem to do much with these slippery fellows, andshe failed to advance the ball, failed in trying for a field-goal,failed so dismally that the watching cadets groaned with dismay.

  New Era took a turn at rushing the ball along the muddy field. Sheplowed into Fardale, and soon it seemed that the cadets had no show atall.

  Chester Arlington, his rain-hat slouched over his face, was pale to thelips as he saw those greased players slip through Fardale's line forsteady gains, saw the ball carried along the muddy field towardFardale's goal, realizing in his heart that the home team was playingagainst a terrible handicap.

  "Just my luck!" he thought. "Here I've been betting against Fardale andlosing right along; to-day I bet on her, and these duffers come alongwith a trick that makes our team look like a lot of dubs. I'm beatenagain! Lord have mercy! the old lady will have to cough up now, andthat's a fact!"

  He groaned aloud when the thought of the dreadful condition financiallythat he would be in if Fardale lost that game. If Fardale lost! Thereseemed no doubt about that, for New Era walked straight along to atouch-down and then kicked a goal.

  Fardale kicked off again. Nelson caught the ball and ran, slipping fromthe hands of three tacklers who got hold of him fairly. It was awful!

  Dick Merriwell brought Nelson down at last, but the ball was in thecenter of the field.

  "Bub-bub-blame this greasy business!" chattered Chip Jolliby, in deepestdisgust. "There must be sus-some kuk-kind of a rule against it."

  He was covered with mud to the eyes, presenting a comical, as well as awretched, spectacle.

  "Hi don't like this kind of football, don't y' 'now!" wailed BillyBradley. "Hit's hawful--simply hawful!"

  "Brace up!" squeaked Obediah Tubbs. "I wish to thutteration I could gitsome dry dirt on my hands, then I guess I could hold on to one of them'tarnal critters."

  Buckhart was blustering, but bluster did not amount to anything in thisgame. New Era had Fardale on the run, and she kept the work up. Againthe ball was rushed down to Fardale's line, the cadets being unable tohold the greased players. This time, however, Austin failed to kick agoal.

  Dick talked to his men.

  "Hold 'em, fellows," he urged--"hold 'em as well as you can this half. Ihave an idea. We'll get after them hard in the last half. They're notour match. We can down them handily on even terms."

  Dick was satisfied from what he had seen of New Era's playing that theteam was not a match for Fardale on even terms. Had the suits of thevisitors not been greased they could not have held their own with thecadets.

  Having arrived at this belief, Dick began to think swiftly, and an ideasoon flashed through his head. So he urged his men to hold New Era downas well as possible in the first half, promising a change in the finalhalf.

  The boys responded as well as they could under such discouragingconditions. Covered with dirt and grease, they stuck their toes into themud and fought every inch of the ground. But New Era pushed heradvantage, and before the half ended she had made three touch-downs,failing, however, to kick but one goal. And the whistle blew for the endof the half with the ball again less than seven yards away fromFardale's line.