Over the Line Part 26

"I think more of my friends than any old football team in the country,"

mumbled Judd, stubbornly. "There's no use talking, Cateye, I'll lay down, every time he pits me against you."

Luckily Judd was s.h.i.+fted to right tackle the following afternoon and a chance for further trouble was averted. The varsity was not quite as successful as on the previous day and it took a hard fight to drub the seconds in a short scrimmage.

The next day, Sat.u.r.day, Bartlett met and defeated Paulson, 20 to 7, thus keeping her record clean for the entire season up to the final game. The high cla.s.s of football that the little college displayed in besting Paulson, a team touted to be her equal, gladdened the hearts of every Bartlett rooter. The spirits of all were now fairly on edge for the coming contest with Pennington, just five days away. Some even conceded Bartlett an equal chance but when respective records were compared the skeptics shook their heads. Although both teams had clean slates as to victories, Pennington had played against some stronger teams than Bartlett and seemed to possess a much greater scoring machine.

Cateye had only played in one quarter of the Paulson game. Coach Phillips was saving him for the big fray and taking no risks of his knee giving out. Judd watched the game from the bench.

Monday afternoon marked the last day of scrimmage for the varsity.

Coach Phillips had decided to spend the remaining two days at secret signal practice. Consequently the college turned out almost to a man to watch their idol pigskin chasers maul the scrubs as a final demonstration of their ability to whip Pennington. Inspired by the wild cheers of the student body and the realization that the season's biggest game was only two days distant, the varsity fairly outdid itself.

But the faithful second team was resolved to make the varsity earn every touchdown that they secured and fought fiercely to stop each play. For fifteen minutes the battered seconds withstood the onslaught and actually succeeded in pus.h.i.+ng across a touchdown themselves. After this the game became a rout and finally ended in a 56 to 7 score. Both elevens left the field, physically fit and in good spirits, but dead tired.

"Whew!" gasped Benz, throwing a shoe the length of the locker room, "Talk about marathon races! I'll bet I ran ten or twenty miles up and down the field scoring touchdowns."

"Great snakes! Did you hear that, guys?" broke in Knox, a second string man, "The swelled head only scored two touchdowns himself and yet he runs ten or twenty miles! What were you doing, Benz, playing solitaire?"

"Never you mind," retorted Benz, amid laughter; then, seeing a way out: "Possibly, Knox, you have never heard of Miles Standish. That's the kind of Miles I run."

"Zowie!"

"Take him out!"

"Stow it!"

"As bright as mud!"

"Call a doctor!"

"A cold shower for that!" shouted Neil, "That stuff is too deep for we'uns!"

A dozen hands seized the unwilling Benz and thrust him cruelly under a cold, cold shower.

"B-r-r-r-r-r! Let me out!" sputtered Benz, making a tremendous struggle. "I don't mind the cold but that water is wet!"

"A double dose for that!" howled Pole, and Benz was forced to submit to another flood of H2O. He was finally released and took his punishment good naturedly. The fun went on, first one, and then the other of the fellows being made the object for humorous attack.

Of a sudden the locker door opened and Coach Phillips stepped in.

Instantly all laughing and talking ceased. Fellows in half-dressed att.i.tudes hesitated before proceeding. It was evident by the look on Coach Phillips' face that he had something important to say.

"Any of the fellows left yet?"

"No!"

"Good!" snapped the coach. "I have a little something that I want to say to you all before you go. I--"

"Ouch! Have a heart!" Benz had unwittingly slapped Pole across the small of the back with a wet bath towel. A t.i.tter of laughter went up.

"Benz, stop that fooling and pay attention!" Coach Phillips' voice was unusually hard and penetrating.

"Fun is all right in its place," continued the coach, "I'm glad to see you fellows light-hearted and care free. That is usually a good sign before a game. But too much of this sort of business will have a disastrous effect. Such mental att.i.tudes breed self confidence. Self confidence breeds listlessness; and listlessness spells defeat. Now don't misunderstand me. I want you to have a certain amount of confidence, in yourselves, in the team. But beware of over-confidence!

Over-confidence will do more than misplays or anything else to bring defeat. Just because we have gone through the season thus far unbeaten, don't for one moment imagine that we are invincible. In order to win Thursday it will take all the skill, strength, and endurance that you fellows have! From now on until the big game is over I want every fellow on the varsity to forget his studies. There is no occasion to look astonished, (as several players gasped). It is a new procedure at Bartlett, I know, but I believe a wise one. You have all worked hard and kept up in your marks throughout the entire season. Now I want complete relaxation. Don't look at a cla.s.s book.

Work hard in football practice and memorize those plays so well that there is not a possibility of mistake. Forget about the game. Get plenty of sleep the next two nights. Take good care of yourselves.

When you trot on the field Thanksgiving day I expect to see the best physically and mentally fit team that Bartlett college has ever turned out. Remember, it is not only brawn but brains that wins games now-a-days and you fellows must be in the fight with minds and bodies every minute!"

"Yea!"

"I wish to thank every member of the second team for the loyal manner in which you have come out night after night in order to make a good first team possible," went on Coach Phillips, ignoring the show of enthusiasm. "I am sure that you will all feel amply repaid if your efforts will have made the varsity victorious in the coming big game.

Just as a great army depends upon those left behind to properly feed and clothe it, so does a varsity football team depend upon its second team to keep it at its playing strength and build it up through scrimmage. A good first team can hardly ever be attained without a good second team. The fact that we have had an exceptionally fine second team this year has been largely responsible for the success of the varsity.

"I have already talked longer and said more than I at first intended.

The second team's work is done for the year but the varsity's hardest work is yet to come. I want all of you varsity men to report for signal practice to-morrow at two P. M. All of you may go now except Judd Billings and McCabe of the seconds."

The fellows filed noisily out of the locker room leaving the wondering Judd and the elated McCabe to interview Coach Phillips.

"What have I done now?" demanded Judd of McCabe, when he was ordered to remain.

"Don't you know, you rube!" hissed McCabe, joyfully, in his ear.

"We're promoted!"

"Promoted?"

"Yes,--unless I miss my guess he's going to tell us to report for practice with the varsity!"

"That would be kind of nice, wouldn't it?" replied Judd, trying to conceal his joy at the very thought.

Coach Phillips closed the locker door and came up, facing the two eager youths.

"Both of you report for signal practice with the varsity to-morrow. It is possible that you may get into the game Thursday, for a short time at least. Remember what I told the rest about keeping in condition and not studying until the game is over. McCabe, come to my room to-night at seven. I want you to get the signals well in mind and especially some new plays. That is all."

The coach turned abruptly and left the locker room.

McCabe and Judd stood eyeing each other, the news seeming too good to be true. Finally McCabe broke the trance by running across and thumping Judd joyfully.

"What did I tell you?" he shouted, "And it's my first chance in four years!"

CHAPTER XVI

BEFORE THE GAME

Wednesday night, the eve of the coming contest with the mighty Pennington eleven, found Bartlett college in a state of wild confusion and excitement. The campus was lined with students and returning alumni, some of the latter having come hundreds of miles just to see the unbeaten elevens clash.

News from the village of Tarlton announced every hotel and place of accommodation to be over-crowded with visitors, friends, relatives, and alumni, waiting for the morrow.

A delegation of students had been busy all day collecting empty dry goods boxes, odd pieces of wood, limbs of trees, and what not for the creating of a large bonfire should Bartlett be victorious. All this refuse was concealed behind one of the dormitories ready to be dragged out and placed in the center of the campus pending a successful termination of the game.