Left Guard Gilbert

by Ralph Henry Barbour

  CHAPTER VIII

  COACHING THE TACKLES

  THE ride back was far less exciting. Mr. Brady drove the big carleisurely and conversed with Clint, who had succeeded to the seat ofhonour in front. Mr. Brady, it appeared, had a poultry farm somedistance on the other side of Brimfield. He seemed a trifle surprisedand pained when he discovered that Clint had never heard of the CedarRidge Poultry Farm, and at once issued an invitation to visit it.

  "You come over some time and I'll show you some stock that'll open youreyes. Bring your friends along. Tell the conductor on the trolley whereyou want to go and he'll set you down right at my gate. You can't missit, though, anyhow, for I've got nearly a quarter of a mile of housesthere. Silver Campines are my specialty. Raise a few White Wyandottes,too. You wouldn't think to look at me that the doctors came mighty neargiving me up ten or eleven years ago, eh? Did, though. That was justafter I finished college. They said the only thing would save me washiking out to Colorado or Arizona or New Mexico. Some said one place andsome said another. Seeing that they couldn't decide, I settled thequestion myself. Came out here, bought ten acres of land--I've gotnearly forty now--and lived in a tent one Summer while my house wasbuilding. Doctors said it wouldn't do, but I fooled them. Slept out ofdoors every night, worked like a slave fourteen hours a day and put onflesh right from the start. I'm not what you'd call fat now, I guess,but you ought to have seen me then! An old chap I had putting up myfirst chicken house told me he could work me in nicely for a roostingpole! Went back to one of the doctors three years ago and had him lookme over. He had to admit that I was a pretty healthy specimen. You couldsee that he was downright peeved about it, though!" Mr. Brady chuckled."Then I settled the matter to my own satisfaction by taking out somelife insurance. When I got my policy I stopped worrying about my health.You drop over some afternoon and let me show you how to live like awhite man and make a little money, too. There's no life like it, and Iwouldn't go back to the city if they gave me the Ritz-Carlton to livein!"

  Finally, Don was unceremoniously yanked up and through]

  Clint responded that he and the others would like very much to visitCedar Ridge some day, but that just now they were all pretty busy inthe afternoons with football. That struck a responsive chord and Mr.Brady harked back to his school and college days when he, too, hadfondled the pigskin. "I wasn't much of a player, though," heacknowledged. "I was sort of tall and puny-looking and not very strong.Still, I did get into my school team in my senior year and played on myfreshman team in college. The next year I had to give it up, though. I'dlike to come over some day and see you fellows play. I've always beenintending to. I haven't seen a real smashing football game for years.That's funny, too, for I can remember the time when I used to think thatif I could get on my 'varsity eleven I'd die happy." He laughed as heswept the searchlights around a corner. "A man's ambitions change, don'tthey? Now what I want to do is to raise the champion egg producer. I'mgoing to do it, too, before long."

  And Clint quite believed it. Any man, he told himself, who could takecommand of a situation as Mr. Brady had that evening, and who could makeenough money in the poultry business to own a three-thousand dollarautomobile was capable of anything!

  When they approached the town Mr. Brady swung off to the left,explaining that he would take the boys up to the school. There was amoment of silence and then Clint protested weakly. "Shucks," was thereply, "it won't take five minutes longer, and after the way you fellowshave worked tonight you don't deserve to have to walk home!"

  "Well, then--then I guess you'd better let us out at the corner," saidTim. "We'd hate to wake up the masters, Mr. Brady."

  "Oh, that's it, eh?" Mr. Brady laughed loudly. "Stayed out too late,have you?"

  "I'm afraid we have, sir," said Clint. "We're supposed to be in hallbefore ten and it's long after that now. If you'll let us out at thecorner of the grounds we can sort of sneak around back and maybe get inwithout being seen. Faculty's beastly strict about outstaying leave."

  The car crossed the railroad track and presently pulled up quietly inthe gloom of the trees along the road and the four boys noiselesslydescended, shook hands, promised to pay a visit some day to Cedar Ridgeand stole off to the right through the darkness. A moment later the tinyred light of the automobile vanished from sight. Tim called a halt atthe wall. "You'd better bunk out with us tonight, Clint," he whispered."We'll beat it around back of the gym and get in the shadows of thebuildings. Say, Don, you're sure we left that window unlatched?"

  "Of course we did! It hasn't been closed for a week."

  "Then forward, my brave comrades! If anyone sees us we'd better scatterand hide out for awhile."

  They climbed over a stone wall and made their way through a groveadjoining the school grounds, keeping close to the boundary fence. Itwas as dark as pitch in the woods and every now and then one or anotherwould walk into a tree or fall over a root. Don's teeth were chatteringlike castanets, for the night had grown cooler and a little breeze wasblowing from the west, and his clothing was still far from dry. Theycrept past the back of the Cottage very cautiously, for there werelights upstairs and down, and breathed easier when the black bulk of thegymnasium loomed before them and they could crawl over the fence anddrop back into school ground. From the corner of the gymnasium toBillings was a long distance, and looked just now longer than it everhad before. Also, in spite of the fact that there was no moon, the nightwas surprisingly light and Tim scowled disapprovingly at the stars asthey paused for an instant at the corner of the building to get theirbreaths.

  "Keep low," advised Tim, "and make for Torrence. Then we'll stay closeto the walls of the buildings. You want to see if there's a window openin Torrence, Clint?"

  "No, I'll stay with you fellows. I'd probably walk into a chair or atable and someone would take me for a burglar."

  "Come on, then. Haste to yon enfolding darkness!"

  They "hasted," and a second or two after were creeping, doubled up lesttheir heads show above the darkened windows and arouse unwelcomecuriosity, along the rear of Torrence. Then they raced across the spacedividing Torrence from Main Hall and repeated the proceedings until,finally, they were under the windows of Number 6 Billings. Both wereopen at the bottom and their doubts and tribulations were at an end.Clint was assisted in first, Tom followed and then Tim and, finally, Donwas unceremoniously yanked up and through.

  "Eureka!" breathed Tim. "Can you make it to your room, Tom? If you don'twant to risk it you can bunk out here on the window-seat or somewhere."

  "You may have half of my bed," offered Don. But Tom was already removinghis shoes.

  "If Horace hears me," he whispered, "he's got better ears than I thinkhe has. Good-night, fellows. We had a bully time, even if we didn't getthat rarebit!"

  Tim groaned hollowly. "There! Now you've gone and reminded me that I'mstarved to death!"

  "Shut up," warned Don. "Don't forget that Horace's bedroom is rightthere." He nodded toward the wall. "Beat it, Tom, and don't fall overyour feet!"

  The door opened soundlessly, closed again and Tom was gone. Theylistened, and, although the transom was slightly open, not a creak or ashuffle reached them. "He's all right," whispered Tim. "Me for bed,fellows. Want to come in with me, Clint, or will you luxuriate on thewindow-seat?"

  "Window-seat, thanks. Got a coat or something?"

  Tim pulled a comforter from the closet shelf and tossed it to him, andquietly and quickly they got out of their clothes and sought theircouches. Ten minutes later three very healthy snores alone disturbed thesilence of Number 6.

  The next morning Clint joined the others and walked unobtrusively alongthe Row with them in the direction of Wendell and breakfast, but when hereached Torrence he quite as unobtrusively slipped through the doorwayand sought his room to repair his appearance and relieve the anxiety ofAmory Byrd. And that seemed to conclude the adventure for all hands, andDon, for one, was extremely thankful that they had escaped detection andthe punishment which would have certainly follo
wed. But that Sundayafternoon, while on his way to Torrence to recover a book which LeroyDraper had borrowed in the Spring and neglected to return, he fell inwith Harry Walton and made the disconcerting discovery that he hadcongratulated himself too soon. Don had no particular liking for Walton,although he by no means held him in the disdain that Amy Byrd and someothers did, and he was a little surprised when Harry fell into stepbeside him.

  "Have a good time last night?" asked Harry with an ingratiating leer.

  "Last night?" echoed Don vacantly. He remembered then that Lawton roomedin Number 20 Billings, directly above Number 6. "What about last night?"

  Harry winked meaningly and chuckled. "Well, I guess there was a party,wasn't there? I noticed you got home sort of late."

  "Did I? What makes you think that?"

  "I happened to be looking out my window, Don. It was sort of hot and Iwasn't sleepy. Who were the other fellows?"

  "Other fellows? I guess you didn't see any others, Walton."

  Harry's saturnine countenance again wreathed itself with a growing grin."Didn't, eh? All right. I probably imagined them."

  "Maybe you were asleep and dreamed it," said Don gravely. "Guess youmust have, Walton."

  "Oh, I'm not going to talk, Don. You needn't be afraid of that."

  "I'm not," responded the other drily. "Well, I'm going in here. So long,Walton."

  "Bye, Don. I'm mum."

  Don nodded and entered Torrence, but on the way upstairs he frowneddisgustedly. He didn't believe for an instant that Walton woulddeliberately get them into trouble, but he might talk so much that thefacts would eventually work around to one of the masters. Don wishedthat almost any fellow he knew save Walton had witnessed that entry bythe window of Number 6. Later, when he returned from his visit to RoyDraper, without the book, by the way, since it had mysteriouslydisappeared, he recounted his conversation with Walton to Tim. Timdidn't let it bother him any, however.

  "Harry won't give us away. Why should he? Besides, if he did he wouldknow mighty well that I'd spoil his brunette beauty!"

  "Well, he may tell it around and Horace or somebody'll hear it. That'sall I'm worrying about."

  "Don't worry, Donald. Keep a clear conscience and you'll never know whatworry is. That's my philosophy."

  Don smiled and dismissed the matter from consideration.

  On Monday he had his first try at coaching the second team tackles andfound that, after all, he got on fairly well. There were four candidatesfor the positions and two of them, Kirkwell and Merton, promised well.Kirkwell, in fact, had already had a full season of experience on thesecond. Merton was a graduate from his last year's hall team. The othertwo, Brace and Goodhugh, were novices and had everything to learn, andit was with them that Don laboured the hardest. Monday's practice endedwith a ten-minute scrimmage between two hastily selected teams, andDon, for the first time that fall, played in his old position of leftguard. Merton, who opposed him, found that he still had much to learn.

  On Tuesday, after a long and grilling tackling practice at the dummy,Coach Boutelle announced his line-up for the scrimmage against the firstteam, and Don was disappointed to find that Kirkwell and not he was downfor left guard. The right guard position went to Merton. Don, with Mr.Boutelle and a half-dozen of the more promising substitutes, followedtheir team about the field, Boots criticising and driving and Donbreaking in with hurried instructions to the guards. The first team hadno trouble in piling up four touchdowns that afternoon, even thoughthree regulars were still out of the line-up. Between the short periodsDon coached Kirkwell and Merton again, and Kirkwell, who was a decentchap but fancied himself a bit, was inclined to resent it.

  "Chop it off, Gilbert," he said finally. "Give a fellow a chance to usehis own brains a little. I'm no greenhorn, you know. I played guard alllast year on this team."

  "I know you did," answered Don. "And I don't say you can't play yourposition all right. But the best of us make mistakes, and Boots has toldme to look out for them and try and correct them. I'd a lot rather beplaying than doing this, Kirkwell, but while I am doing it I'm going todo it the best I know how. A fellow who isn't in the game sees a lot theplayer doesn't, and when----"

  "Oh, all right. Only don't tell me stuff I know as well as I know myname, Gilbert. Don't nag."

  "Sorry. I'll try not to. But you see what I mean about that stiff-armbusiness, don't you? Don't get out of position when you're not surewhere the play's coming, Kirkwell. Stiff-arm your man and hold him offuntil you see what's doing. Then you can play him right or left or shovehim back. Once or twice you waited too long to find out where the playwas coming and you didn't hold your man off. Get me?"

  "Yes, but we don't all play the position the same way, you know. What'sthe good of sparring with your man when you've got to find where theplay's coming? You can't watch the ball and your opponent too, can you?"

  "It doesn't sound reasonable," said Don, "but you can! You watch Hall doit, if you don't believe me. Maybe you don't actually look two ways atonce, Kirkwell, but you can watch your man and locate the play at thesame time. I suppose it comes with practice."

  "I'd like to see you do it," replied Kirkwell aggrievedly.

  "Watch Hall do it. He's the best guard around here. I'm not setting upas an example."

  "You talk like it," muttered Kirkwell. But Merton, who had been a silentaudience, stepped in to Don's support.

  "Gilbert's only trying to help us, Ned. Quit grousing. Come on; time'sup."

  In spite of mutinous objections Kirkwell profited by Don's advice andinstruction and soon showed an improvement in his defensive playing. Itdidn't appear that day, for Kirkwell was replaced by Don before thesecond period was more than a few minutes old, while Merton gave way toGoodhugh. Don's advent considerably strengthened the left of the secondteam's line and more than once during his brief presence there he hadthe satisfaction of outwitting Tom Hall and once got clear through andsmeared a play well behind the first team's line.

  Boots cut his squad from day to day and on Friday only some eighteencandidates remained. Brace went with the discard. Between parting withBrace and Goodhugh, Don, when consulted, chose to sacrifice the former.Possibly young Brace suspected Don's part in his release, for, for sometime after that, he viewed Don with scowls.

  Don's hand was now entirely healed, although the scars still showed,and, according to the doctor, would continue to show for a long time.Mr. Boutelle used Don at right guard during some portion of everyscrimmage game against the first, a fact which caused Kirkwell a deal ofanxiety. Kirkwell had from the first, and not unreasonably, resentedDon's appearance with the second team squad. Don had been, as everyfellow knew, slated for the first team, and Kirkwell thought it wasunfair of him to drop back to the second and "try to do him out of hisplace." Feeling as he did, it isn't surprising that he took more andmore unkindly to Don's teaching. It took all of Don's good nature attimes to prevent an open break with Kirkwell. Once the latter accusedDon of trying to "ball him up" so that he would play poorly and Donwould get the position. The next day, though, he made an awkward apologyfor that accusation and was quite receptive to Don's criticisms andinstructions. But Don's task was no easy one and it grew harder as theseason progressed and the second team, especially as to its linemen,failed to develop the ability Mr. Boutelle looked for. Don more thanonce was on the point of resigning his somewhat thankless task, but Timrefused to sanction it, and what Tim said had a good deal of influencewith Don.

  "Well, then," he said moodily, "I hope Kirkwell will break something andget out of it."

  "Tut, tut," remonstrated Tim. "Them's no Christian sentiments."

  "I do, though. Or, anyway, I hope something will happen to let me out ofit. Boots said he was afraid Robey would take me on the first, but Idon't see any chance of it."

  "I don't see why he doesn't, though," mused Tim. "Your hand's all rightnow and you're playing a corking good game. You can work all around anyguard he's got except, maybe, Tom. Tom's rather a bit above the average,
if you ask me. Neither Walton nor Pryme amounts to a whole lot."

  "Robey's been playing Walton a good deal lately," said Don. "I wouldn'tbe surprised if he put him in ahead of Gafferty before long."

  "There isn't a lot to choose between them, I guess," answered Tim."Gafferty's no earthly good on offence. Wait till we run up againstBenton tomorrow. Those huskies will show Gafferty up finely. And maybesome more of us," Tim added with a chuckle.

  "Oh, well----" began Don, vaguely, after a minute.

  But Tim interrupted. "Know what I think? I think Robey means to take youon the first later and is letting you stay with Boots just so you'll getfined down and speeded up a bit. You know you're still a little slow,Donald."

  "I am?" Don asked in genuine surprise. "I didn't know it. How do youmean, slow, Tim?"

  Tim leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together behind hishead. "Every way, Donald. I'm telling you this for your own good,dearie. I thought you realised it, though, or I'd have said it before.You start slow and you don't get up steam until the play's about over.If it wasn't that you're an indecently strong chap we'd get the jump onyou every time. We do, as it is, only it doesn't do us much good,because you're a tough chap to move. Now you think it over, Don. See ifyou can't ginger up a bit. Bet you anything that when you do Robey'llhave you yanked off that second team in no time at all!"

  "I'm glad you told me," said Don, after a moment's consideration. "Ithought I was doing pretty well this fall. I know well enough it wasbeing all-fired slow that kept me off the first last fall, but I surelythought I'd picked up a whole lot of speed. I'll have to go back topractising starts, I guess."

  "Oh, never mind the kindergarten stuff, old man. Just put more jump intoit. You'll find you can do it all right, now that you know about it.Why, I'll bet you'll be performing like a Jack rabbit before theseason's over!"

  "Like a jackass, more likely," responded Don ruefully.

  "No, for a jackass, dearie, doesn't take a hint."

  "Well, but I don't believe I _can_ play any faster, Tim. If I could I'dbe doing it, wouldn't I? Just naturally, I mean."

  "Never mind the conundrums, Don. You try it. If you do I'll be willingto guarantee you a place on the first."

  "I guess your guarantee wouldn't cut much ice," objected Don, with alaugh. Then he sobered and added: "Funny game, though, me coachingKirkwell and Merton and Goodhugh. Looks as if I was the one needed thecoaching."

  "Sure. We all need it. No one's perfect, Don, although, withoutboasting, I will say that I come pretty near it."

  "You come pretty near being a perfect chump, if that's what you mean."

  Tim shook his head. "It isn't at all what I mean. Now cut out theartless prattle and let me find some sense in this history stuff--ifthere is any!"