Quarter-Back Bates

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by Ralph Henry Barbour


  CHAPTER VIII

  HALDEN REPEATS

  Of course the joke was too good to keep, and two days later Blash'sfriends--and he had a good many--developed a disconcerting fashion ofgreeting him with: "Is Blashington in the house?" Blash, however, couldtake a joke as well as play one. Dick had secret doubts as to his rightto accept credit for the conspiracy, for without Stanley it could neverhave been born. Still, like a great many other great ideas, it had, ina manner of speaking, fashioned itself, and perhaps Dick had had asmuch to do with it as Stanley.

  On the following Monday Dick found himself again in charge of one ofthe squads in practice. He had a suspicion that Harry Warden had said agood word for him to the coach, for more than once he found the latterwatching him. With this encouragement Dick buckled down and worked veryhard with the somewhat discouraging material supplied him. Halden wasnot with him today, but there was an excellent understudy for him inthe shape of a chunky youth named Davis. Davis was just as slow asHalden had been, but he didn't gloom or grouch. He was cheerful andapologetic and really tried hard, and Dick took a good deal of troublewith him and was extremely patient. When the squads were called inand the scrimmage began Davis insinuated himself between Dick and aneighbour on the bench.

  "Say, Bates, I'm mighty sorry I was so stupid. And it was white of youto let me down easy the way you did."

  "Oh, that's all right. You tried, and that's more than some of themdid. Look here, Davis, why don't you brush up on the signals a bitbefore tomorrow? You didn't seem to remember them very well."

  "The trouble is that I can't think quick enough, Bates. You say 'Six!Twelve! Fourteen!' and I know that I'm going to have the ball----"

  "No, you're not!" laughed Dick. "Not on those signals!"

  "Eh? Oh, that's right! Well, '_Five_, twelve, fourteen, then. What Imean is, that while I'm getting the first number you call the third andthen the ball is snapped and I haven't found out where I'm going withit!"

  Dick laughed. "Can't think quick enough, eh? You'll have practice onthat then. Look here, Davis, who told you you were made for a back?"

  "No one, but you see I sort of wanted to play there. You don't think Ican?"

  "Oh, I don't want to say that," answered Dick kindly, "but I do thinkyou'd do better work in the line. Seems to me you'd fit in pretty wellat guard."

  "I guess I'm too short," said Davis sadly. Then, brightening: "But Iwouldn't have to remember so many figures, would I?" he asked.

  "Well, anyway, you'd have another second or so to think about them,"chuckled Dick. "Why don't you tell the coach you'd like to try playingguard? You are a bit short, but you've got weight and you look husky.How old are you? Sixteen?"

  "Seventeen. I don't look it, do I? Say, I suppose you wouldn't want tospeak to Mr. Driscoll, would you?"

  "Me? It wouldn't do any good, my speaking to him, Davis. I'm just oneof the dubs like the rest of you."

  Davis appeared to doubt that. "I thought--Well, you won't be long.Anyone can see that you know the game. Maybe I'd better ask Bob Peters,though. I'm sort of scared of Mr. Driscoll."

  "All right, Davis, go to it. Neither of them will bite you, I guess.Were you here last year?"

  Davis nodded. "And the year before. I'm in the Third."

  "Oh, are you? Well, how does Mr. Driscoll stand with the fellows?"

  "Stand with them? Oh, ace-high, Bates," answered the other earnestly."He's a corker! Don't you like him?"

  "I don't know him, but it seems to me he's sort of old for the job. Andhe doesn't seem to----" Dick stopped. "Oh, I don't know, but he acts abit stand-offish, and football seems so much of a _business_ here! Iguess I can't explain just what I mean."

  Evidently he hadn't, for Davis looked blank. "He isn't though," heaffirmed. "Stand-offish I mean. I like him immensely. Most everyonedoes. And he can turn out good teams, Bates."

  "Well, that's the main thing. I wonder if we have punting practiceafter the scrimmage. Who is the skinny chap that was in charge of thepunters Friday?"

  "Gaines. He's playing on the further squad there. See him? At righthalf: the fellow with the new head-gear. He's pretty good, too. Heplayed right half last year. I'm no use at punting. Guess my leg's tooshort."

  "That can't be my trouble," laughed Dick.

  "Oh, you! I thought you were mighty good at it," said Davis approvingly."I wish I could do half as well as you did."

  "Well, I can get distance sometimes," acknowledged Dick, "but I'm justas likely to kick to one corner of the field as the other! Direction isthe hard thing."

  "I suppose so, only it's all hard for me." After a moment of silence hesaid: "Do you know, Bates, half my trouble today was that I was scared.I was afraid you'd jump me the way you did Sandy Halden the other day."

  "You weren't on the squad that day," answered Dick, puzzled.

  "I was trailing behind. When you let Sandy go I wanted to take hisplace, but I was pretty sure I'd do even worse! You ought to have heardHarry Warden chuckle when you slammed Sandy."

  "Did he? Well, I had a lot of cheek to do that, because I wasn'tsupposed to change the line-up. But Halden was too much for me. Has heplayed before this year?"

  "Oh, sure! Sandy tried last year, but they dropped him to the Secondand he got peeved and quit. He's always trying something. He had thegolf bug last Fall and thought he was going to do wonders. But thatpetered out, too. Nobody would play with him after awhile becausehe was always blaming things on them. If he topped a ball he saidthe other fellow had coughed or moved or something. He was playingwith Rusty Crozier one day: Rusty's a mighty good player: and he wasfiddling over his ball on a tee when Rusty began swinging his clubbehind Sandy. Sandy told him he should keep still when his adversarywas playing. Rusty had heard a lot of that and he got mad. 'That so?'he asked. 'Let me show you something, Sandy.' He pushed Sandy aside,and took a fine long swing at Sandy's ball and sent it into the woodsover by the old quarry. 'There,' he said. 'Now you go hunt for that,Sandy, and when you find it try to swallow it. Maybe you'll choke onit!'"

  "Did he find it?" asked Dick amusedly.

  "Don't think so. Anyway, he hasn't choked yet!"

  On Wednesday Sandy Halden fell to Dick's squad in signal drill. Therehad been a very strenuous twenty minutes with the tackling dummy andmost of the fellows were still smarting under the gentle sarcasms ofBilly Goode, and some nursed sore spots as well. Halden had failed assignally as any of that particular squad to please the trainer and hadcome in for his full share of disparagement, and his temper was not ofthe best when signal work began.

  Dick resolved to have no trouble with Halden; nor any nonsense either.But Halden started off more hopefully today and managed to get throughthe first ten minutes of drill without a mistake. He showed Dick,however, that he was still resentful by scowling on every occasion.Davis had, it appeared, found enough courage to ask for his transferto the line, for he was on Dick's squad at left guard. Of course,with none to oppose him Davis managed to go through the motionssatisfactorily enough, but whether he could ever be made into a goodguard remained to be seen. There were five signal squads at work thatafternoon, and several of them were followed by blanketed youthsfor whom no positions remained. Coach Driscoll and, at times, BillyGoode and Manager Whipple moved from one squad to another, the coach,however, devoting most of his time to the squad containing the morepromising of the substitute material--or what seemed such at that earlyperiod. Captain Peters was at right end on the first squad, which heldall of last season's veterans: Furniss, Harris, Cupp, Upton, Newhall,Wendell, Stone, Gaines, Warden and Kirkendall. The weather had turnedcold since Saturday and there was a gusty north-east wind quarteringthe field, and the more seasoned squads were charging up and down thegridiron with much vim.

  Dick had his men pretty well warmed up at the end of ten minutes andplays were going off fairly smoothly. Then, down near the east goal,came the first serious mix-up in the back field. Showers, playingfull-back, had received the ball from centre direct and was to make thewide-turn ru
n outside his own left end, the two half-backs going aheadas interference. It was a play that had already been gone through halfa dozen times that afternoon. But now for some unknown reason Halden,instead of sweeping around to the left in the wake of the other half,plunged straight ahead at the right guard-tackle hole and emergedtriumphantly beyond. His triumph ceased, though, when he saw Showersand the right half-back trotting along a good fifteen yards distant.He pushed through toward Dick, who had been engaged with a mythicalopposing back, scowling darkly.

  "You called for a straight buck!" he challenged.

  "Wrong, Halden," replied Dick quietly. "I called for a run outsideleft end and you were supposed to be in advance of the ball."

  "You got your signal wrong, then!"

  "I don't think so. Everyone else understood it. We'll try it againpresently, Halden. See if you can get it right next time."

  "I got it right that time. I heard the signal, and it was----"

  "Hire a hall, Sandy," advised a lineman. "You were all wrong."

  "I was not! Bates doesn't give the signals so anyone can get them,anyway. He talks down in his boots!"

  "Never mind that, Halden. Signals! 9--11--You're out of position,Halden. Come on, come on!"

  "What's eating you? I'm in position!"

  "You are now, but you weren't. Signals! 9--11----"

  "I haven't moved an inch!"

  "Well, do it now then. Move a couple of hundred inches and get out ofhere." Dick looked around for someone to take Halden's place, but therewere no followers today. Halden had turned very red and now he steppedup to Dick sputtering.

  "You can't put me off, you smart Aleck! I was put here by Driscoll andI'll stay until he tells me to go. You think you're the whole thing,don't you? How do you get that way? You make me sick!"

  Dick made no answer, but he watched Halden closely, for the boy wasquite evidently in a fighting mood. It was Davis who came to the rescueby slipping out of his place in the line and inserting himself suddenlybetween Halden and Dick.

  "Sure, he's got a right to fire you, Sandy, and you're fired! So beatit!" Davis pushed Sandy playfully away. "Bates is boss, son."

  "He is not! He's no more on this squad than I am! Quit shoving me,Short!"

  "Driscoll is looking over here," warned Showers uneasily. "Let's get atit, fellows."

  "Right you are," responded Davis, jumping into his place again. "Lether go, Bates!"

  "I must have another half-back," answered Dick, looking about.

  "Oh, forget it," growled Halden. "I'm not going off."

  "I think you are," replied Dick quietly. He left the squad and walkedacross to where Billy Goode was standing with Manager Whipple. "I'mshort a half-back," he announced. "Got someone, Mr. Trainer?"

  "What's the matter? Someone hurt?" asked Billy.

  "No, but I've let Halden go. He tried to make trouble."

  Billy looked at Dick quizzically. "_You_ let him go! What do you knowabout that?" He turned inquiringly to Stearns Whipple.

  Whipple smiled. "Benson's not working," he said. "Give him Benson."

  "Would you?" Billy shot a look of mingled disapproval and respect atDick. "Well, all right. Send Halden to me. Say, what's your name?Gates? Oh, Bates! Well, if I was you Bates, I wouldn't get too uppity."Billy went off for Benson and Dick started back toward his waitingsquad, followed by the amused regard of Whipple. Benson trotted outfrom behind a neighbouring group and joined Dick.

  "Billy sent me over," he said. "I'm a half-back."

  "Go in at left, will you? That's all, Halden. Goode says to report tohim."

  Halden walked up to Dick and spoke very softly. "I'll get you, Bates,if it takes a year!" he said.

  Dick nodded. "Come on, fellows! Signals!"

  Some ten minutes later Coach Driscoll found Dick on the bench whilethe first and second squads were taking the field for the scrimmage."Whipple tells me you had trouble with Halden," he said. "What waswrong, Bates!"

  "He tried to hold up work arguing whether he or I was wrong about asignal I gave."

  "Who _was_ wrong!"

  "He was, sir, but that didn't matter. He wouldn't work. Just wanted tochew the rag. So I let him go."

  The coach smiled faintly. "You probably did right, Bates, but perhapsin future you'd better report the matter to me first. You see somefellows might question your authority." The coach's smile grew. "Well,I dare say Halden won't trouble you again." He nodded and went off.Dick looked after him thoughtfully.

  "When he smiles he doesn't look so old," he said to himself.

 

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