Behind the Line: A Story of College Life and Football

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Behind the Line: A Story of College Life and Football Page 2

by Ralph Henry Barbour


  CHAPTER II

  PAUL CHANGES HIS MIND

  Two boys were sitting in the first-floor corner study in Haewood's.Those who know the town of Hillton, New York, will remember Haewood's asthe large residence at the corner of Center and Village Streets, fromthe big bow-window of which the occupant of the cushioned seat may lookto the four points of the compass or watch for occasional signs of lifeabout the court-house diagonally across. To-night--the bell in the towerof the town hall had just struck half after seven--the occupants of thecorner study were interested in things other than the view.

  I have said that they were sitting. Lounging would be nearer the truth;for one, a boy of eighteen years, with merry blue eyes and cheeksflushed ruddily with health and the afterglow of the day's excitement,with hair just the color of raw silk that took on a glint of gold wherethe light fell upon it, was perched cross-legged amid the cushions atone end of the big couch, two strong, tanned, and much-scarred handsclasping his knees. His companion and his junior by but two months, adark-complexioned youth with black hair and eyes and a careless,good-natured, but rather wilful face, on which at the present moment themost noticeable feature was a badly cut and much swollen lower lip, laysprawled at the other end of the couch, his chin buried in one palm.

  Both lads were well built, broad of chest, and long of limb, withbright, clear eyes, and a warmth of color that betokened the best ofphysical condition. They had been friends and room-mates for two years.This was their last year at Hillton, and next fall they were to begintheir college life together. The dark-complexioned youth rolled lazilyon to his back and stared at the ceiling. Then--

  "I suppose Crozier will get the captaincy, Neil."

  The boy with light hair nodded without removing his gaze from the littleflames that danced in the fireplace. They had discussed the day'shappenings thoroughly, had relived the game with St. Eustace from startto finish, and now the big Thanksgiving dinner which they had eaten wasbeginning to work upon them a spell of dormancy. It was awfully jolly,thought Neil Fletcher, to just lie there and watch the flamesand--and--He sighed comfortably and closed his eyes. At eight o'clockhe, with the rest of the victorious team, was to be drawn about the townin a barge and cheered at, but meanwhile there was time to just closehis eyes--and forget--everything--

  There was a knock at the study door.

  "Go 'way!" grunted Neil.

  "Oh, come in," called Paul Gale, without, however, removing his drowsygaze from the ceiling or changing his position.

  "I beg your pardon. I am looking for Mr. Gale, and--"

  Paul dropped his legs over the side of the couch and sat up, blinking atthe visitor. Neil followed his example. The caller was a carefullydressed man of about thirty-five, scarcely taller than Neil, but broaderof shoulder. Paul recognized him, and, rising, shook hands.

  "How do you do, Mr. Brill? Glad to see you. Sit down, won't you? I guesswe were both pretty nigh asleep when you knocked."

  "Small wonder," responded the visitor affably. "After the work you didthis afternoon you deserve sleep, and anything else you want." He laidaside his coat and hat and sank into the chair which Paul proffered.

  "By the way," continued the latter, "I don't think you've met my friend,Neil Fletcher. Neil, this is Mr. Brill, of Robinson; one of theircoaches." The two shook hands.

  "I'm delighted to meet the hero--I should say one of the heroes--of theday," said Mr. Brill. "That run was splendid; the way in which you twofellows got your speed up before you reached the line was worth comingover here to see, really it was."

  "Yes, Paul set a pretty good pace," answered Neil.

  The visitor discussed the day's contest for a few minutes, during whichNeil glanced uneasily from time to time at the clock, wondered what thevisitor wanted there, and heartily wished he'd take himself off. Butpresently Mr. Brill got down to business.

  "You know we've had a little victory in football ourselves this fall,"he was saying. "We won from Erskine by 17 to 6 last week, and we'refeeling rather stuck up over it."

  "Wait till next year," said Neil to himself, "and you'll get over it."

  "And that," continued the coach, "brings me to the object of my calltonight. Frankly, we want you two fellows at Robinson College, and I'mhere to see if we can't have you." He paused and smiled engagingly atthe boys. Neil glanced surprisedly at Paul, who was thoughtfullyexamining the scars on his knuckles. "Don't decide until I've explainedmatters more clearly," went on the visitor. "Perhaps neither of you havebeen to Collegetown, but at least you know about where Robinson standsin the athletic world, and you know that as an institution of learningit is in the front rank of the smaller colleges; in fact, in certainlines it might dispute the place of honor with some of the big ones.

  "To the fellow who wants a college where he can learn and where, at thesame time, he can give some attention to athletics, Robinson's bound torecommend itself. I mention this because you know as well as I do thatthere are colleges--I mention no names--where a born football player,such as either of you, would simply be lost; where he would be tied downby such stringent rules that he could never amount to anything on thegridiron. I don't mean to say that at Robinson the faculty is laxregarding standing or attendance at lectures, but I do say that it holdscommon-sense views on the subject of college athletics, and does nothound a man to death simply because he happens to belong to the footballeleven or the crew.

  "Robinson is always on the lookout for first-class football, baseball,or rowing material, and she believes in offering encouragement to suchmaterial. She doesn't favor underhand methods, you understand; no hiringof players, no free scholarships--though there are plenty of them forthose who will work for them--none of that sort of thing. But she iswilling to meet you half-way. The proposition which I am authorized tomake is briefly this"--the speaker leaned forward, smiling frankly, andtapped a forefinger on the palm of his other hand--"If you, Mr. Gale,and you, Mr. Fletcher, will enter Robinson next September, the--ah--theathletic authorities will guarantee you positions on the varsity eleven.Besides this, you will be given free tutoring for the entrance exams,and afterward, so long as you remain on the team, in any studies withwhich you may have difficulty. Now, there is a fair, honest proposition,and one which I sincerely trust you will accept. We want you both, andwe're willing to do all that we can--in honesty, that is--to get you.Now, what do you say?"

  During this recital Neil's dislike of the speaker had steadilyincreased, and now, under the other's smiling regard, he had difficultyin keeping from his face some show of his emotions. Paul looked up fromhis scarred knuckles and eyed Neil furtively before he turned tothe coach.

  "Of course," he said, "this is rather unexpected."

  The coach's eyes flickered for an instant with amusement.

  "For my part," Neil broke in almost angrily, "I'm due in September atErskine, and unless Paul's changed his mind since yesterday so's he."

  The Robinson coach raised his eyebrows in simulated surprise.

  "Ah," he said slowly, "Erskine?"

  "Yes, Erskine," answered Neil rather discourteously. A faint flush ofdispleasure crept into Mr. Brill's cheeks, but he smiled aspleasantly as ever.

  "And your friend has contemplated ruining his football career in thesame manner, has he?" he asked politely, turning his gaze as he spokeon Paul. The latter fidgeted in his chair and looked over a trifledefiantly at his room-mate.

  "I had thought of going to Erskine," he answered. "In fact"--observingNeil's wide-eyed surprise at his choice of words--"in fact, I hadarranged to do so. But--but, of course, nothing has been settleddefinitely."

  "But, Paul--" exclaimed Neil.

  "Well, I'm glad to hear that," interrupted Mr. Brill. "For in my opinionit would simply be a waste of your opportunities and--ah--abilities,Mr. Gale."

  "Well, of course, if a fellow doesn't have to bother too much aboutstudies," said Paul haltingly, "he can do better work on the team; therecan't be any question about that, I guess."

  "None at all," res
ponded the coach.

  Neil stared at his chum indignantly.

  "You're talking rot," he growled. Paul flushed and returned his lookangrily.

  "I suppose I have the right to manage my own affairs?" he demanded. Neilrealized his mistake and, with an effort, held his peace. Mr. Brillturned to him.

  "I fear there's no use in attempting to persuade you to come to usalso?" he said. Neil shook his head silently. Then, realizing that Paulwas quite capable, in his present fit of stubbornness, of promising toenter Robinson if only to spite his room-mate, Neil used guile.

  "Anyhow, September's a long way off," he said, "and I don't see thatit's necessary to decide to-night. Perhaps we had both better take a dayor two to think it over. I guess Mr. Brill won't insist on a finalanswer to-night."

  The Robinson coach hesitated, but then answered readily enough:

  "Certainly not. Think it over; only, if possible, let me hear yourdecision to-morrow, as I am leaving town then."

  "Well, as far as I'm concerned," said Paul, "I don't see any use inputting it off. I'm willing--"

  Neil jumped to his feet. A burst of martial music swept up to them asthe school band, followed by a host of their fellows, turned the cornerof the building.

  "Come on, Paul," he cried; "get your coat on. Mr. Brill will excuse usif we leave him; we mustn't keep the fellows waiting. And we can thinkthe matter over, eh, Paul? And we'll let him know in the morning. Here'syour coat. Good-night, sir, good-night." He was holding the door openand smiling politely. Paul, scowling, arose and shook hands with theRobinson emissary. Neil kept up a steady stream of talk, and his chumcould only mutter vague words about his pleasure at Mr. Brill's call andabout seeing him to-morrow. When the door had closed behind him thecoach stood a moment in the hall and thoughtfully buttoned his coat.

  "I think I've got Gale all right," he said to himself, "but"--with aslight smile--"the other chap was too smart for me. And, confound him,he's just the sort we need!"

  When he reached the entrance he was obliged to elbow his way through asolid throng of shouting youths who with excited faces and waving capsand flags informed the starlight winter sky over and over that theywanted Gale and Fletcher, to which demand the band lent hearty if ratherdiscordant emphasis.

  * * * * *

  A good deal happened in the next two hours, but nothing that ispertinent to this narrative. Victorious Hillton elevens have been hauledthrough the village and out to the field many times in past years, andbonfires have flared and speeches have been made by players and faculty,and all very much as happened on this occasion. Neil and Paul returnedto their room at ten o'clock, tired, happy, with the cheers and thesongs still echoing in their ears.

  Paul had apparently forgotten his resentment toward Neil and the wholematter of Brill's proposition. But Neil hadn't, and presently, when theywere preparing for bed, he returned doggedly to the charge.

  "When did you meet that fellow Brill?" he asked.

  "In Gardiner's room this morning; he introduced us." Paul began to looksulky again. "Seems a decent sort, I think," he added defiantly. Neilaccepted the challenge.

  "I dare say," he answered carelessly. "There's only one thing I've gotagainst him."

  "What's that?" questioned Paul suspiciously.

  "His errand."

  "What's wrong with his errand?"

  "Everything, Paul. You know as well as I that his offer is--well, it'sshady, to say the least. Who ever heard of a decent college offeringfree tutoring in order to get fellows for its football team?"

  "Lots of them do," growled Paul.

  "No, they don't; not decent ones. Some do, I know; but they're notcolleges a fellow cares to go to. Every one knows what rotten shapeRobinson athletics are in; the papers have been full of it for twoyears. Their center rush this fall, Harden, just went there to play onthe team, and everybody says that he got his tuition free. You don'twant to play on a team like that and have people say things like thatabout you. I'm sure I don't."

  "Oh, you!" sneered Paul. "You're getting crankier and crankier everyday. I'll bet you're just huffy because Brill didn't ask you first."

  Neil flushed, but kept his temper.

  "You don't think anything of the sort, Paul. Besides--"

  "It looks that way," muttered Paul.

  "Besides," continued Neil calmly, "what's the advantage in going toRobinson? We've arranged everything; we've got our rooms picked out atErskine; there are lots of fellows there we know; the college is thebest of its class and its athletics are honest. If you play on theErskine team you'll be somebody, and folks won't hint that you'rereceiving money or free scholarships or something for doing it. And asfor Brill's guarantee of a place on the team, why, there's only onedecent way to get on a football team, and that's by good, hard work; andthere's no reason for doubting that you'll make the Erskinevarsity eleven."

  "Yes, there is, too," answered Paul angrily. "They've got lots of goodplayers at Erskine, and you and I won't stand any better show than adozen others."

  "I don't want to."

  "Huh! Well, I do; that is, I want to make the team. Besides, as Brillsaid, if a fellow has the faculty after him all the time about studieshe can't do decent work on the team. I don't see anything wrong in it,and--and I'm going. I'll tell Brill so to-morrow!"

  Neil drew his bath-robe about him, and looked thoughtfully into theflames. So far he had lost, but he had one more card to play. He turnedand faced Paul's angry countenance.

  "Well, if I should go to Robinson and play on her team under theconditions offered by that--by Brill I'd feel disgraced."

  "You'd better stay away, then," answered Paul hotly.

  "I wouldn't want to show my face around Hillton afterward, and if I metGardiner or 'Wheels' I'd take the other side of the street."

  "Oh, you would?" cried his room-mate. "You're trying to make yourselfout a little fluffy angel, aren't you? And I suppose I'm not good enoughto associate with you, am I? Well, if that's it, all I've got to say--"

  "But," continued Neil equably, "if you accept Brill's offer, so will I."

  Paul paused open-mouthed and stared at his chum. Then his eyes droppedand he busied himself with a stubborn stocking. Finally, with a muttered"Humph!" he gathered up his clothing and disappeared into the bedroom.Neil turned and smiled at the flames and, finding his own apparel,followed. Nothing more was said. Paul splashed the water about even morethan usual and tumbled silently into bed. Neil put out the study lightand followed suit.

  "Good-night," he said.

  "Good-night," growled Paul.

  It had been a hard day and an exciting one, and Neil went to sleepalmost as soon as his head touched the pillow. It seemed hours later,though in reality but some twenty minutes, that he was awakened byhearing his name called. He sat up quickly.

  "Hello! What?" he shouted.

  "Shut up," answered Paul from across in the darkness. "I didn't know youwere asleep. I only wanted to say--to tell you--that--that I've decidednot to go to Robinson!"

 

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