Dave Porter and His Rivals Part 26

Dave suddenly saw the captain of the Lemingtons make a certain sign to some of his men.

"They are up to some trick!" he cried to his chums, and hardly had he spoken when the ball went into play, through center and across to the left end. It was picked up like a flash, pa.s.sed to the quarter-back, who was on the watch for it, and carried toward the Oak Hall line with a rush.

"A touchdown for Lemington!"

"That's the way to do it!"

"Now, Higgins, make it a goal!"

Amid a wild cheering, the pigskin was brought out for the kick, and the goal was made.

"That's the way to do it!"

"Now for another touchdown!"

Again the pigskin was brought into play. But while it was still near the center of the field the whistle blew and the first half of the game came to an end.

Score: Lemington 6, Oak Hall 0.

It must be confessed that it was a sorry-looking eleven that straggled into the Oak Hall dressing-room to discuss the situation.

"You want more snap!" cried John Rand, the manager.

"They put up a trick on us!" grumbled Nat. "They got that touchdown by a fluke."

"Well, I wish we could make one in the same way," retorted Rand. Since being elected manager, he had had anything but an easy task of it to make the eleven pull together. Some of the old players wanted Dave, Roger, Phil, and the others back, and threatened to leave unless a change was made.

"This looks as if Oak Hall was out of it," whispered Phil to his chums, during the intermission.

"Oh, I don't know," returned Dave. "A touchdown and a goal isn't such a wonderful lead."

At the beginning of the second half it was seen that Guy Frapley and his fellow-players were determined to do something if they could. But they were excited and wild, and the captain could do little to hold them in.

Several times they got confused on the signals, and once one of the new ends lost the ball on a fumble that looked almost childish. Inside of ten minutes, amid a mad yelling from the Lemington supporters, the ball was forced over the Oak Hall line for another touchdown, and another goal was kicked. Then, five minutes later, came a goal from the field.

"Hurrah! That's the way to do it!" yelled a Lemington supporter.

"Fifteen to nothing!" cried another. "Thought Oak Hall knew how to play football!"

"They ought to play some primary school kids!"

"You shut up!" screamed Nat Poole, in sudden rage. "We know what we are doing!"

"You ought to be an ice-man,--you're slow enough," retorted the Lemingtonite, and this brought forth a laugh, and made Nat madder than ever.

Again the ball was placed in play, and this time Oak Hall did all it could to hold its own. But it was of no avail. Lemington carried the air of victory with it, and its confidence could not be withstood. Again the ball was shoved over the line for a touchdown, and again the goal was kicked, amid a cheering that was deafening.

"It's a slaughter!" murmured Roger.

"I am afraid so," answered Dave. "Too bad! I am sorry for the school!"

"So am I," said the senator's son, and Phil and Ben nodded gravely.

The last five minutes of the game only served to "rub it in," as Shadow expressed it, for Lemington scored again, this time, however, failing to kick the goal. When the whistle blew the pigskin was on the Oak Hall twenty-five yard line.

Final score: Lemington 26, Oak Hall 0.

It is perhaps needless to state that the local supporters yelled and cheered, and blew their horns, and clacked their rattles until they were exhausted. It was a great victory, for in the past Oak Hall had been a formidable rival on the gridiron. The eleven cheered for Oak Hall, and were cheered in return; and then the visitors got out of sight as quickly as possible.

"A bitter defeat truly," said Doctor Clay, while driving back to the school. "Our boys did not seem to play together at all."

"It was very ragged work," answered Andrew Dale. "But it is no more than I expected, from what I saw in the practice games. Our eleven will be able to do but little unless it improves wonderfully."

"I believe you, Dale. Don't you--ah--think they would do better if Porter and Morr and Lawrence were in the line-up?"

"I certainly do. But they have been voted out, so I was told."

"Ahem!" Doctor Clay grew thoughtful. "What does Mr. Dodsworth think about it?" The party he mentioned was the gymnastic teacher, who took quite an interest in football, although not officially.

"He thinks Porter, Morr, Lawrence, and Plum ought to be put back on the eleven. He says it is a shame that they were put off in the first place."

"I believe our school is to play Rockville Academy next."

"Yes, and I just got a message over the telephone that Rockville won from Elmwood this afternoon, twelve to four. I know Elmwood has a strong eleven, so Rockville must be extra good this season."

"Exactly so; and that means, if our eleven is not greatly strengthened before we meet Rockville, we shall suffer another defeat," responded the master of Oak Hall, rubbing his chin reflectively.

"More than likely, sir."

"Too bad! In these days some folks think football and baseball quite as important--ahem!--as--er--some studies. It is a wrong idea, a.s.suredly,--yet I--ahem!--I think it would be a very good thing if we could show the world that our students can play football as well as do other things."

"Football is a great thing at Yale, Harvard, and Princeton, Doctor."

"Yes, indeed! I remember well how I used to witness those stirring games, and how I would yell with the rest. Why, Dale, one year we had a quarter-back that was a corker. They couldn't stop him! He got the pigskin and skinned down the field like a blue streak, and--but, ahem!

that is past history now," finished the doctor, bringing himself back to his usual dignity. "But I must look into this football matter more closely," he added with a speculative sigh.

Poole, Frapley, and their crowd had arranged for a banquet that night, and many others of Oak Hall had gathered boxes and barrels for bonfires.

The banquet was a tame affair, and not a single fire was lighted.

"We are having frost early this year," said Luke, dryly.

"Yes, it came on suddenly, this afternoon," added Shadow.

"I'll wager you will hear something drop in the football team before long," went on Luke. "The school won't stand for such work as we had to-day."

"Who is to blame?"

"Rand, Frapley, Bemis, and Nat Poole."

"Then they better resign."