Frank Armstrong, Drop Kicker

by Matthew M. Colton

  CHAPTER XVI.

  THE WARWICK GAME.

  From the moment the whistle blew the two teams went at each otherlike tigers, Warwick endeavoring to overcome the lighter boys ofQueen's by sheer force, a thing that was made possible by thesuperior weight of their team. Taking the ball from the kick-off,the Warwickers began a slashing attack which resulted in long gains.Biglow, the right half-back on Warwick, slipped through, time andtime again, between the Queen's tackle and the end, and when the enddrew in he went outside. Five minutes after the ball was put in play,Warwick was inside the Queen's 25-yard line. The latter was fightingdesperately, but the forwards did not seem to be able to solve theplay which was being sent at them, and the Queen's secondary defensehad to take the punishment. Jimmy was at the bottom of every pile andrepeatedly was the only player of Queen's who stood between Warwickand a touchdown.

  "Touchdown, touchdown, touchdown!" howled the Maroon stands. "You'vegot 'em going! No hope for Queen's!"

  The Queen's followers cried valiantly and incessantly: "Hold them!hold them!" But even the most enthusiastic and hopeful of the boyswho wore the Blue and Gold could not fail to see the impendingdisaster. Down on the side-line the substitutes crouched, grittingtheir teeth and thrusting an imaginary shoulder against the Warwickinvaders as the two lines met.

  "There they go again!" yelled a Queen's boy. "It's a touchdown--no,it isn't--Turner has him!" And Turner did indeed have him. Biglowhad sliced in between the tackle and end and was getting up speed,when the fiery Jimmy set sail for him. Biglow, in his endeavor toelude him, cut across the field. Jimmy forced him farther and fartherout, until, the side-line being near at hand, Biglow endeavoredto side-step the tackler. He failed dismally, and the next momentJimmy's arms encircled his legs and Jimmy's sturdy shoulder struckhis thigh, carrying Biglow with the ball clear off his feet andbackward toward his own goal. Biglow's head struck the ground witha resounding thump. The ball flew from his arms and bounced crazilyaround. Half a dozen forms shot for it, and instantly there was apile which was quickly dug apart by the referee. Big Wheeler lay withthe ball tucked securely under his body.

  You might have thought it a Queen's touchdown the way the followersof the Blue and Gold leaped into the air, shouted, danced and huggedeach other.

  "_Turner, Turner, Turner!_" shouted the crowd. "Oh, what a tackle!"

  "Good boy, Turner! Good boy, Wheeler!" yelled Queen's; and then theleaders got to work and gave a regular cheer for each of the boys whohad saved, for a time at least, the Queen's goal line. The Warwickstand was as still as death. A touchdown had been snatched away fromthem by the red-head!

  Wheeler immediately kicked out of danger, sending the ball spinningfar down the field, from which position Warwick again took up themarch. The Queen's forwards did better this time. They had learned alittle more about their opponent's attack and checked the advances alittle, but could not stop them. More slowly but just as surely theball went back. Biglow bored through and went around the end, makingup the difficult yards that had been lost by his previous fumble. Heran low and hard and scarcely ever failed to make his distance. Oncewith five yards to go on the last down, the Warwick quarter worked apretty forward pass and made the necessary distance.

  Across the center of the field came the Warwick football machine,irresistible and deadly. Chip shouted from the back fieldinstructions to the line to get low and charge fast and hard. Theytried to follow orders, but were bowled over by the fierce onslaughtof the bigger line they were facing. Jimmy slapped the linemen on theback and encouraged them after each scrimmage, and endeavored withWheeler to work the team up to desperate heights of defense. But allseemed useless. On came the Warwick team, and now they were at the20-yard line.

  With the necessity for a close guarding of the back field territorydiminishing, the Queen's backs crept in closer and made the Warwickplayers work even harder for what they earned. But even then the bigMaroon team made its distance, and, with a first down, the ball layjust inside the 10-yard line.

  Again Queen's was fighting hard to stave off a touchdown. The boysin the stand called almost despairingly to "hold them," whilepandemonium reigned on the opposite side of the field. The Warwickplayers looked smiling and confident as they settled themselves for ascrimmage, while Queen's was tense and anxious.

  "Put it over this time!" yelled Warwick. "Make it sure!"

  The Warwick quarter stood up straight, looked over the backs of hiscrouching forwards, sized up the positions of the defensive backs andthen gave his signal rapidly. The lines met with a crash! But therewas a mistake in signals, and the back that was to take the pass fromthe quarter wasn't where he should have been. The quarter, borne offhis feet by the fierce charge of the Queen's line, cried "Down!" fromthe bottom of a squirming mass. It was second down and 12 yards togain, which somewhat dimmed the jubilation on the Warwick side.

  "They'll try a forward pass now," said Frank to one of the othersubstitutes. Together they had been crawling down the side-lines ontheir hands and knees, watching with intense eagerness the greatfight their comrades had been making against heavy odds. "Why doesn'tJimmy move out a little? There he goes; he's on to it, I guess. No,he's going back again. What are they going to try?"--for the quarterhad called his men together after giving part of the signal and wasinstructing them probably in the play that was to come off. Suddenlythe team sprang back into position, crouching low with finger-tips onthe ground.

  "Sixteen--sixty-two--forty," shrieked the Warwick quarter. The ballflew straight back to Biglow, who took half a dozen steps to theright to draw the defense in that direction. Then he stopped and shotit far out to the left in the direction of the Warwick end, who hadedged out without apparently attracting any attention.

  But while the ruse had fooled nearly every one, it had not fooledJimmy or his Captain. They had guessed the play and even beforeBiglow had stopped, were already in motion toward the waiting Warwickend.

  The ball flew straight, but just as it was about to settle into thearms of the Warwick end, big Wheeler made a leap into the air andsucceeded in touching the ball with the tips of his fingers. Itwas enough to deflect it from its course, and Jimmy, racing behind,was under it like a flash before it touched the ground. He tuckedit under his arm and was off down the field like lightning, whileWheeler, his speed unchecked by the leap, tore along at his side!

  As it happened, the pass had carried the ball well to the left sideof the field, and most of the players of both teams were out of thepossibility of either helping or hindering the runner. There were twoof the Warwick players besides Biglow, the back who had thrown theball--the left tackle and the outwitted end--who were within reachingdistance, and they went after Jimmy full tilt. Wheeler turned asideand put the end, the most dangerous man for the moment, out of theplay by slowing up suddenly in front of him. Then he threw himselfheadlong in front of Biglow, who went sprawling head first on theground.

  This left the tackle, a boy named Robinson, the only hope of Warwickto prevent a touchdown, for Jimmy had a clear field to the Warwickgoal.

  And what a race it was! Jimmy, short and stocky, ran as if his lifedepended on it. He fairly flew over the ground, but the long-leggedRobinson gained on him. The stands forgot to cheer in watching thatrace. Despite Jimmy's best efforts, the tackle still gained on him.He had crossed the center of the field and was bearing directly forthe goal posts, with every energy bent on reaching them.

  Forty-five, forty, thirty-five, thirty--the lines flew by, and stillhe kept ahead. At the 25-yard line Robinson was a stride behind, buta few yards farther Jimmy felt Robinson's hand touch his shoulder, asthe tackle reached for him. The touch was like an electric shock andJimmy fairly leaped away, but the big tackle was not shaken off. Intwo strides more he had again reached Jimmy, and he launched himselfwith all his might against the Queen's half-back, gripping his legsas he fell. Jimmy felt those steel-like fingers grappling him andgave a last despairing effort. He twisted out of the other's hold,spun completely around, and, stagge
ring blindly, fell over the goalline with the ball gripped in both hands and with knees curled, drawnup to defend it from any attack! But there was no attack, for the tworunners had outdistanced all the rest. Queen's had scored!

  What a shriek split the air over the Queen's stands! The cheerleaders forgot their work entirely, and did nothing but jump up anddown and toss their megaphones into the air, careless whether theylanded on the ground, on their own heads or on the head of some oneelse. After perhaps two minutes of this din, the leaders suddenlyremembered that they were supposed to get organized sounds out ofthe spectators, and for the space of several minutes, they workedtheir already tired throats to the limit of endurance in the shortcheer--"now hip! hip!"--the long cheer, and a final rousing yell for"_Turner, Turner, Turner!_"

  The Warwick crowd, unable to believe their eyes, sat dumfounded.Every one was trying to explain to every one else just how it hadhappened--Burns had failed to have one of his backs on the lookoutfor just such an emergency; the pass had been too slow; the endhad been too far out. These and a dozen other excuses the Warwicksympathizers had to offer, but meantime the scoreboard at the endof the field showed the indisputable fact that, explanations or noexplanations, the score stood:

  Queen's--5. Warwick--0.

  Wheeler made a sorry exhibition of a kick-out and sent the ball overthe head of the catcher. It hit the ground, and of course there wasno chance for a try at the goal. What should have been an easy pointfor Queen's was thus lost to them.

  "Come on now, fellows!" shouted the Warwick Captain. "We'll get thattouchdown in five minutes!"

  "We'll get it all back again and half a dozen more, too!" saidRobinson tauntingly to Chip, as the two teams moved to their placesfor the next kick-off. But before half a dozen plays had been made,the whistle sounded to end the first quarter.

  Excitement reigned in the stands during the intermission and whenthe teams faced each other for the second quarter, the interest wasintense.

  "Go for them, Warwick!" yelled a voice in the front row of theWarwick stand. "Eat 'em alive!"

  And the Warwick team did its best to follow this cannibalisticadvice. Taking up the former smashing game, Warwick quickly carriedthe ball far down the field, but just when Queen's was beginning tosettle desperately to work, a fumble in the Warwick back field, whichwas recovered by Queen's, relieved the strain and Wheeler sent thesphere spinning back down the field.

  Warwick, nothing daunted, with the same old methods, came back asdeterminedly as ever. Queen's seemed unable to stop them anywhereexcepting once inside their own 10-yard line at the urgings of thestands, when the line stood up to its work like heroes and threw theWarwick runner back on the last down for a loss and took the ball;and once again when an onside kick was partially blocked and the ballrecovered by Jimmy Turner.

  Warwick had played so desperately hard to overcome the Queen's lead,that they were tiring perceptibly as the minutes went on. They hadcarried the ball two or three times the length of the field if alltheir gains were counted, but just when distance counted most, downby the Queen's goal, something would go wrong. Not only the Warwickbodies but their spirits were lagging, and they were as glad as theplayers of Queen's when the whistle blew to end the half. The scorehad not been changed and the hopes of the Queen's followers, as wellas those of the team itself, had risen wonderfully.

  The two teams trudged off rather slowly to their dressing rooms tobe sponged off and talked to and rested during the fifteen minutesof intermission, leaving behind them a babel of talk on both sidesof the field, interrupted every now and then by a school song or aseries of cheers from one side or the other. It was all most friendlybetween the halves. Queen's boys and Warwick boys tumbled down fromthe stands and hobnobbed with each other. Queen's was jubilant, whilein every Warwick boy's face one could read plainly: "Wait and seewhat we'll do in the second half."

  The intermission passed rapidly. The appearance of the big Maroonplayers was the signal for a roar from the Warwick stands, brokeninto immediately by a like demonstration from Queen's when theblue-stockinged boys trotted onto the field from the opposite end, asspry-looking as if they had not gone through a hard half. Little timewas lost in preliminaries. The Warwick captain, who had the kick-off,slapped his hands together and shouted confidently to his team-matesto "follow the ball hard." Down the field the Queen's players werescattered in defensive array, grim and defiant.

  "Ready, Captain Wheeler?" cried the referee. Wheeler waved his handas a signal that he was.

  "Ready, Captain Burns?" The stands were so quiet that Burns'answer--"All ready, sir!"--could be plainly heard. The whistleshrilled sharply, the ball flew in a long curve down the field,settling in Turner's arms, who, after covering ten yards, was slammedto the earth. The last half of that memorable battle was on.

  During the intermission, the Codfish, Lewis and David had squeezedthemselves onto the sacred benches of the substitutes as near as theycould get to Frank, and the four boys, with muscles stiffening ateach crash of the lines, watched the tide of battle swing up and downthe gridiron.

  Warwick played furiously at the beginning, and although, as inthe first half, they lost valuable territory by fumbles andmisplays, gradually Burns steadied his team. After a particularlydisastrous fumble, taking the ball at their own 35-yard line, Burns'Maroon-stockinged warriors began a great advance. Four and fiveyards were reeled off at every clip, and once when there was dangerof being held Burns worked a beautiful forward pass for twenty yards.Warwick was now on Queen's 23-yard line, and their football machinewas working with deadly precision.

  "Now we have them!" yelled Burns jubilantly. "Squeeze that ball,you backs, and make it go!" The signal was snapped out, there was acrash of meeting bodies and Burns himself, with his head down, boredthrough the line like a drill until he met Wheeler and Jimmy; butwhen the pile which followed was pulled apart, the ball was fiveyards nearer the Queen's goal line.

  "They can't hold them!" said the Codfish in a tense whisper, as thelines prepared again for the scrimmage. "Oh, if the line would onlygive our backs a little chance, we might stand them off yet! Therethey go! Oh, thunder, look at that!"

  This exclamation was brought forth by a pretty double pass workedby the Warwick backs. The feint toward the Queen's left end threwthe defense off their balance, and before they recovered Hudson,the fleet full-back of Warwick, who had been saved for just such anopportunity as had now arrived, was off like the wind. The Queen'send was bowled over neatly by Burns, and the way to the goal line wasclear excepting for Dixon.

  Warwick had used so many straight plays into the line that the cleverand quickly worked pass came as a great surprise to every one, andthe Warwick stands, quiet for a moment, burst into a great yell asthey saw a touchdown coming, or thought they saw it, at least. Dixonmoved up to meet Hudson, crouching ready for the tackle. The boywith the ball feinted to the inside of Chip. Dixon lunged to meethim, but Hudson quickly side-stepped and with an extra speed slippedoutside of him and was clear. Dixon dived after him, but missed andlay sprawling on the ground. The momentary check of Hudson gave Jimmya chance at the runner, however. He started across, badly botheredby the Warwick tackle, but finally got clear and came over the fieldlike a whirlwind.

  Hudson saw him coming, and, fearing to be intercepted, began to edgeoff toward the side-line. Jimmy pressed him hard in spite of hissuperior speed, and when Hudson was only five yards from the goalline, Jimmy made a last effort and threw himself at the runner withall his strength. The blow knocked Hudson off his feet. He halfturned in the air, struck on his shoulder and actually bounded overthe goal line. It was a magnificent attempt on Jimmy's part, but itfailed, and Warwick had crossed the Queen's line with points enoughresulting to tie the score!

  It was now Warwick's turn to yell, and they did it with an energywhich far surpassed their best previous efforts. Queen's by rightsshould have been silent, but they yelled almost as loudly as didtheir friends in the opposite stand, for Turner's wonderful try toget Hudson brought e
very one to his feet cheering.

  "Five feet more," said Frank, "and Turner would have had him sure."

  "Who'd have thought the old mule could run that way?" cried theCodfish. "I'll never call him slow any more."

  "You can always figure on Jimmy doing his best and a little more,"returned Frank. "Good old Jimmy! But what's the matter with Dixon?"

  This, as Dixon got up and began twisting and turning his right wrist.

  "The matter is," returned the Codfish, "that Chip is getting readyto give a good excuse for missing his tackle."

  The team gathered around Chip without paying any attention to thejubilation of the Warwick crowd, which extended even to the teamitself. Horton ran out on the field to the little knot of Queen'splayers and after half a minute's examination of Chip's wrist cameback to the side-lines, while the Warwick team prepared for akick-out. The ball had crossed the line far over toward the side ofthe field, and it was not thought possible to kick a goal if the ballwere brought straight out, because of the difficult angle.