CHAPTER XIV
WALTON WRITES A NOTE
THE Southby game was played on the sixth of November, a fortnight beforethe final contest with Claflin School, and practically marked the end ofthe preparatory season. Brimfield would meet her blue-legged rival withwhat plays she had already learned and the time for instruction waspassed. The remaining two weeks, which held but ten playing days, wouldbe devoted to perfecting plays already known, to polishing off the roughangles of attack and defence and to learning a new set of signals as amatter of precaution. Those ten days were expected to work a bigimprovement in the team. Whether they would or not remained to be seen.
On the whole, Brimfield had passed through a successful season. She hadplayed seven games, of which she had lost one, won five and tied one.Next week's adversary, Chambers, would in all likelihood supply a sixthvictory, in which case the Maroon-and-Grey would face Claflin with anearly clean slate. Claflin, on her part, had hung up a rather peculiarrecord that Fall. She had played one more game than Brimfield, had wonfour, lost one and tied three. She had started out strongly, had had aslump in mid-season and was now, from all evidence at hand, recoveringfinely. On comparative scores there was little to choose between therivals. If any perceptible advantage belonged to Brimfield it was onlybecause she had maintained a steadier pace.
There was a lay-off for most of the first-string players on Monday, afact which gave Harry Walton a chance to conduct himself very capably atleft guard during the four ten-minute periods of scrimmage with thesecond. Don didn't go near the field that afternoon and so was saved anyof the uneasiness which the sight of Walton's performance might havecaused him. Rollins got back for a short workout and showed few signs ofhis injury. The second team, profiting by some scouting done by CoachBoutelle and Joe Gafferty on Saturday, tried out the Claflin formationand such Claflin plays as had been fathomed against the first team andmade some good gains thereby until the second-string players solvedthem. On Tuesday Harry Walton disgruntledly found himself againrelegated to the bench during most of the practice game and saw Don openholes in the second team's line in a style that more than once broughtcommendation from Coach Robey. Walton glowered from the bench untilCotter disgustedly asked if he felt sick. Whereupon Walton grinned andCotter, with a sigh, begged him to scowl again!
The first team presented its full strength that afternoon, and Mr.Boutelle's Claflin plays made little headway. With Rollins back inplace, the first team scored almost at will during three periods, andeven after an entirely new backfield was put in it continued to smashthe second up very effectually. Mr. Boutelle scolded and raved andthreatened, but all to scant purpose. The first got its plays off verysmoothly, played low and hard and, for once, played together. The finalscore that day was the biggest ever piled up in a practice contest, 30to 3. Had Mr. Robey allowed Rollins to try goals from touchdowns itwould have been several points larger.
Tom Hall had so far carefully avoided the field, but today he appearedthere and sat in the stand with Roy Draper and tried his best to becheerful. But his best wasn't very good. Already the feeling against himhad largely subsided, and the school, realising, perhaps, that Tom'sloss to the team did not necessarily spell defeat for it, was inclinedto be sorry for him. But Tom didn't realise that, since he still kept tohimself and was suspicious of advances. He hadn't quarrelled with theschool's verdict, but it had hurt him and, as he didn't like being hurtany more than most of us, he avoided the chance of it. In those days hestuck pretty close to his room, partly because the office required itand partly because he had no heart for mingling with his fellows. RoyDraper had to plead long and earnestly that afternoon to get him to thegridiron. As badly as he felt about losing his place on the team,however, Tom didn't begrudge Pryme his good fortune, and he was honestlypleased to see that the latter, in spite of his deficiencies, woulddoubtless fill the right guard position very capably in the Claflingame. He studied Pryme's work attentively that afternoon, criticised itand praised it and showed no trace of animosity.
"He will do all right," he confided to Roy. "Crewe will help him a lot,and so will Thursby. If he could use his hands a bit better he'd befine. He holds himself nicely, doesn't he? On his toes all the time. Ihate to see a lineman play flat-footed. That's one trouble with DonGilbert. Don's doing a heap better than he did last year, though. Iguess he's every bit as good as Joe Gafferty. He's a regular whale ondefence, isn't he? He's a queer chap, Don, but a mighty nice one."
"Don," replied Roy in his somewhat didactic manner, "is the sort offellow I'd pick out to be cast away on a desert island with. He isn't soscintillant, you know, but he'd wear forever."
"That's him to a T." Tom chuckled. "They tell me Harry Walton is as madas a hatter because Don butted in and grabbed that position away fromhim. Can't say I altogether blame him, either. That is, there's no usegetting mad about it, but it is tough luck. Harry isn't a half-badguard, either."
"If he can play good football," answered Roy, "I'm glad to know it. I'vealways wondered what Walton was for."
Tom laughed. "Oh, he isn't so bad, I guess. His manner's against him."
"I've noticed it," said Roy drily. "Also his looks and his remarks and anumber of other things. Larry Jones says he comes from the best sort offamily."
"A fellow's family doesn't prove anything, I guess."
"Evidently not. There's the whistle. Let's go back." Presently Royadded, as they headed for Torrence: "I can quite understand whyWalton's family sent him to school."
"Why they sent him to school?" repeated Tom questioningly.
"Yes, it was to get rid of him."
"You've certainly got your little hammer with you," said Tom, with asmile. "What's Harry done to you?"
"Not a thing. I wouldn't advise him to, either. I just don't like him,Tom. Can't stand being in the same room with him. Well, see you later,old chap. And, say, think over what I said about--you know."
"Oh, that's all right," replied Tom, with a shrug of his broadshoulders. "Fellows can think what they like about me. I don't blamethem. But you can't expect me to like it!"
"I know, Tom, but they don't feel that way now. It was just for a day ortwo. I've heard a lot of fellows say lately that it's nonsense blamingyou, Tom. So come out of your shell, like a sensible chap, and show thatyou don't feel any--any ill-will."
"Well, I don't, I suppose. As for coming out of my shell, I'll becrawling out pretty soon. Don't bother about me, Roy. I'm feeling fine.So long."
Perhaps what Tom really meant was that he was feeling a whole lot betterthan he had a few days before, for he certainly had not become quitereconciled to the loss of his position with the team. He was gettingused to the idea, but he wasn't happy over it. When he squarely facedthe fact that when Claflin came trotting onto the field on the twentiethhe would be sitting in the grand stand instead of being out there intogs, his heart sank miserably and he hardly knew whether he wanted tokick something or get off in a corner and cry. At such moments thequestion of whether his school fellows liked him or detested himbothered little. If he could only play against Claflin, he assuredhimself, the school might hate him to its heart's content!
Going on to Billings and his room, he considered what Roy had told himof the altered sentiment toward him, but somehow he didn't seem to careso much today. Watching practice had brought back the smart, and beingliked or disliked seemed a little thing beside the bigger trouble.Still, he thought, if Roy was right perhaps he had better meet fellowshalf-way. There was no use in being a grouch. As a starter and in orderto test the accuracy of Roy's statement, he decided that he would dropin on Carl Bennett, who roomed in Number 3. Bennett was a chap herather respected and, while they had never been very close friends, Tomhad seen a good deal of the other during the Fall. But Bennett was notin and Tom was making his way back to the stairs when the door of Number6 opened and Harry Walton came out. Perhaps it was Roy's dressing-downof that youth that prompted Tom to be more decent to him than usual. Atall events, Tom stopped and hailed him and they
conversed together ontheir way up the stairs. It wasn't until later that Tom, recallingHarry's grudge against Don, wondered what had taken him to the latter'sroom. Then he concluded that Harry had probably been calling on Tim, andthought no more of it. Just now he asked Harry how he was getting onwith the team and was a little puzzled when Harry replied: "All right, Iguess. Of course, Gilbert's got the call right now, but I'm going tobeat him out before the big game. Did you see practice today?"
"Yes. You fellows put up a great game, Harry."
"I didn't get into it for more than ten minutes. Robey's playing DonGilbert for all he knows." Harry laughed disagreeably. "Robey's a bit ofa fox."
"How's that!" Tom inquired.
"Oh, he's sort of keeping me guessing, you see. Thinks I'll get worriedand dig harder."
"Huh. I see. You seem mighty certain of that place, Harry."
"Sure, I'm certain. You just wait and see, old top." Harry nodded andentered his room across the hall, leaving Tom a trifle more sympathetictoward Roy's estimation of him. Walton certainly did have a disagreeablemanner, he reflected.
As a matter of fact, Harry hadn't been calling on anyone in Number 6 forthe simple reason that he had found no one at home. Moreover, he hadexpected to find no one, for he had left Tim at the gymnasium and seenDon and Harry Westcott sitting in the window of the latter's room inTorrence as he passed. What he had done was leave a hastily scrawlednote for Don on the table in there, a note which Don discovered an hourlater and which at once puzzled and disturbed him.
"Come up and see me after supper will you," the note read, with a superbdisdain of punctuation, "I want to see you. Important. H. Walton."
"What's he want to see you about?" asked Tim when Don tossed the note tohim to read.
"I don't know." Don frowned thoughtfully.
"I hope he isn't going to make trouble about that old business."
"What old business?" asked Tim carelessly, more interested in a set ofbruised knuckles than anything else just then.
"Why, you know Harry saw us climbing in the window that night."
"Saw us climb--Well, what of it? That was years ago. Why should he wantto make trouble about that? And how could he do it? I'd like to see himstart anything with me."
"Oh, well, I just happened to think of that."
"More likely he's going to ask you to break a leg or something so he canget your place," chuckled Tim. "Don't you do it, Don, if he does. Itdoesn't pay to be too obliging. Ready for eats?"
"In a minute." Don dropped the note and began his toilet, but he didn'tspeak again until they were on their way down the stairs. Then: "If itshould be that," he remarked, "I wouldn't know whether to punch his heador laugh at him."
"Don't take any chances," advised Tim grimly. "Punch his head. Betterstill, bring the glad tidings to me and let me do it. Why, if that idiotthreatened to open his face about us I'd give him such a walloping thathis own folks wouldn't recognise the remnants! Gee, but I'm hungrytonight! Toddle along faster and let's get there before Rollins and Holtand the rest swipe all the grub."
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