If Kendall had known of a conversation which passed in Mr. Collins’s study that evening Ned’s sudden attachment7 would have been more understandable. Mr. Collins had asked Ned to come early as he had something to say to him, and Ned had arrived ten minutes before any of the others. Mr. Collins was standing8 in front of the little coal fire and Ned had shaken hands with him ceremoniously, a performance he always went through with on such occasions.
“Good evening, sir,” said Ned. “I trust I find you in good health.”
Mr. Collins replied that he was in the best of condition. Then Ned proceeded to hand an imaginary cane9 to an imaginary servant, draw off two imaginary gloves which in imagination followed the cane, remove an imaginary top hat with an air and finally, with a hitch10 of his shoulders, allowed the imaginary servant to remove an imaginary Inverness cape11. It was a very clever bit of pantomime and never failed of applause. To-night Mr. Collins laughed appreciatively, laid a hand on Ned’s shoulder and drew him to the fire:
[129]
“Turning ’em away, sir, at every performance.”
“Good. I’ve got a new recruit for you, or perhaps it would be better to say a new subject for you.”
“All right, sir. Who is it?”
“A fellow named Burtis, a new boy this fall. He rooms upstairs here in Number 21. I think you’ll like him. I do. He seems to have more than the usual amount of common sense, for one thing. And he has principles. I believe, Tooker, that he’s the sort we like, you and I; the sort that becomes a credit to the school. But he needs a little help right now. I can’t go into particulars, but Burtis hasn’t been altogether fortunate since he came. I think he’s a bit down-in-the-mouth just now and he needs some fellow to chum up to him a bit. I’ve asked him here this evening and I want you to look him over and, if you possibly can, get acquainted with him and tide him over the next month or so. You’re the man for the job, Tooker. Will you take it?”
“Why, of course, sir. You’ll see us to-morrow wandering away to the woods arm in arm, to carve our initials on the tree trunks. Fever near, sir!”
“I won’t,” replied Mr. Collins with a smile. “I’ll leave him to you, Tooker. By the way, I neglected to say that Burtis is not yet—er—what[130] we might call a tasteful dresser. There remains13 about him a strong suggestion of the—er—bucolic14.”
Ned shook his head. “I’ve never had that, sir.”
“Had what?”
“I don’t think so,” Mr. Collins laughed. “And, anyhow, Tooker, I don’t believe it could ever catch you!”
And so during the evening Ned had been studying Kendall most of the time, even when it seemed that he hadn’t a thought beyond creating a laugh. And what he had seen he had liked. He hadn’t been surprised, for he had found that Mr. Collins’s judgment16 in such matters usually coincided with his. Ned’s verdict by the time the group broke up was something like this: “Rather homely17 in a nice way. Good eyes and looks straight at you. Well-behaved. Rather shy. Doesn’t butt18 in. Sees a joke before it knocks him down. Has a good voice. Dresses like a farmer and needs a hair-cut and a manicure, but looks as though he knew the use of bath-tubs. On the whole an interesting subject. Get busy.”
And he had got busy, with what results we know. If there was some measure of duplicity in Ned’s first evidences of interest and friendship,[131] the duplicity was in a good cause. Before he had taken himself away, however, Ned had ceased to play a part, and his disconcerting “Do you know, Burtis, I like you!” had been very genuine. But on the way back to his room Ned had owned to himself that it might not prove an easy task to convert the outward appearance of his new protégé to Yardley standards.
“He must have some other clothes,” murmured Ned as he crossed the Yard to Dudley. “And first of all he must have his hair cut. The hair-cut won’t be difficult, but it’s a mighty19 delicate matter to tell a chap that his clothes aren’t right. Well, I’ll go at it gently. Tact20, Ned, tact and diplomacy21!”
“I wonder,” he reflected after he was in bed and listening to the musical efforts of his slumbering22 roommate, “I wonder what the dickens that kid did to get probation23! He doesn’t strike you as much of a cut-up. I can’t just see him putting a tack24 in Bertie’s chair!” (Bertie was Mr. Albert Von Groll, Instructor25 in Modern Languages.) “Besides, he said the secret concerned others. I suppose that’s what Collins meant when he said the chap hadn’t been altogether fortunate since he came. I should say not! It’s going some to get on probation within three weeks of the opening of school! Well, I’ll look him up again[132] to-morrow. I simply must know why he’s on pro3!”
Yardley played her third football game the next afternoon. Her opponent was Forest Hill School. Forest Hill was not considered very dangerous and there was a rumor26 that Payson meant to put in a team of substitutes in the last two periods. Ned Tooker reached the field only a few minutes before the time of starting the game and the two teams were already running through signals and punting. As he turned the corner and walked along in front of the crowded stand many hails reached him:
“Ned, come on up; here’s a seat!”
“Oh you Took! Come and sit in my lap, Ned!”
But Ned only waved and smiled and went on, searching the stand with his gaze. It was not until the whistle had sounded and Sandy Fogg had lifted the ball from the tee with the toe of his shoe that Ned found whom he was looking for. Then he climbed the stairs, nodding and eluding27 the detaining hands thrust toward him, and crowded his way along one of the seats until he reached Kendall. The latter, absorbed in the game—the Forest Hill left half-back was charging back up the field with the pigskin nestled in his arm—hadn’t seen Ned’s approach, and when the latter crowded down beside him and Kendall[133] turned to see who it was the smile that came into his face was well worth seeing.
“Hello!” he said rather shyly.
“Hello, Bendall Kurtis,” replied Ned. “How are you to-day? Who’s going to win the game? You’re a football sharp, aren’t you?”
“Why, we are, of course,” returned Kendall confidently. “But I wish you had seen that Forest Hill fellow run that ball back. He must have made twenty yards!”
“Good stuff! Who’s playing for us?”
“Most of the regulars. Fogg’s at center, Ridge28 and Merriwell are the guards, Jensen and Mitchell tackles, Vinton and Norton ends, Roeder and Stearns half-backs, Simms quarter, and the full-back I don’t know.”
“That’s Marion. What’s the matter with Hammel, I wonder? That isn’t Jensen at right tackle, though, Curt29; that’s Stark30.”
“Is it? But it looks like Jensen. No, he’s got dark hair, hasn’t he? And there’s Jensen on the bench down there; next to Holmes.”
“Jensen’s hair, by the way, is about the same color as yours, Curt. I don’t like to see them wear it as long as that, though. Nowadays, when headguards are the fashion it isn’t necessary.” Ned glanced at Kendall’s hair and displayed much embarrassment31. “I didn’t mean— Honest, Curt, I[134] hadn’t— You wear yours long, too, don’t you?” he ended lamely32.
“Me? Why, no; at least, not like Jensen’s. I guess mine needs trimming.” Kendall laughed. “Mother’s always after me to have my hair cut, and now that I’m away from home I guess it’ll be down on my shoulders if I don’t watch out. It grows awfully33 fast.”
“Then you don’t wear it long because you’re a footballist?” asked Ned. “I’m glad of it, because you’ll look better when it’s trimmed a little. I’ve got to have mine done, too. We might go through the agony together next week, eh? Hello, look at that for a punt!”
“A dandy!” sighed Kendall. “Simms has got it. No! Missed it! Got it again, though. He’s down!”
“Now let’s see what our chaps can do with the ball,” said Ned. “Here we go! Good work, Roeder! Five yards easy! And right through the center! Watch that Forest Hill left end, Curt. He was off-side about a yard that time. There he goes again. I thought so! Penalty for you, Mr. Man!”
The whistle had blown and now the umpire was carrying the ball five yards nearer the Forest Hill goal.
“Now will you behave?” murmured Ned.[135] “This is a fake. Marion can’t punt. I thought so. Stearns outside tackle for three yards. That was very neat. Hello! What’s wrong?”
“Stearns fumbled,” said Kendall sadly. “It’s Forest Hill’s ball.”
“And rather too near our goal to be comfortable. About the thirty-five yard line, isn’t it?”
“I think so,” answered Kendall, sitting forward on the edge of his seat. Three cheer leaders jumped from their places and called for “A regular cheer, fellows, and get into it!”
And then, while the cheer was crashing forth35, a brown-clad youth hurled36 himself against the Yardley line, broke through, eluding player after player, and circled toward the center of the field and the Yardley goal. The watchers leaped to their feet. Pandemonium37 reigned38. Then Simms dived for him and brought him fiercely to earth on the twenty yards.
But it was first down again and only four white lines separated the eager opponents from a touchdown. The cheering began again, the leaders, their commands drowned in the noise, waving their arms in frantic39 encouragement. From around Kendall and Ned cries of “Hold ’em! Hold ’em!” arose and gathered rhythm and volume. The Forest Hill quarter, hand to mouth, was bellowing40 his signals. Then back went the[136] ball, confusion reigned for a moment and another scant41 two yards had been conquered.
“Right through Stark that time,” said Ned. “I guess they’d better bring Jensen on. Second down and eight to gain. Hold ’em, Yardley!”
But Yardley couldn’t, it seemed. What looked like another plunge42 at the line resolved itself into a delayed pass to left half, who tore along behind the line, squirmed past Mitchell and got away around the end for a good twelve yards. It was first down again then, and Forest Hill, despite the frenzied43 implorations of the Yardley supporters and the best efforts of Yardley’s players, gained the three yard line in two plays and crashed through and over for the final distance and a touchdown amidst the ecstatic cheers of some twenty Forest Hill rooters. Unluckily for the visitors they had secured their touchdown near the side of the field and the subsequent punt-out was lost. But five points looked pretty big at that stage of the game and pessimists44 amongst the audience were already predicting defeat for the home team.
The first period ended after four more plays and the teams donned blankets and rested. Then the whistle blew again and the game went on. Yardley pulled herself together then and managed to stop the Forest Hill plunges45, although the[137] latter twice won her distance in that second period. Once Yardley got to Forest Hill’s thirty yards, but only to lose the ball on a fumble34. The second period ended with the score still five to nothing and the two teams trotted46 off the field and up the hill to the gymnasium.
A boy further along the row engaged Ned in conversation, and Kendall, leaning back in his seat, studied his new friend. Although Ned was two years Kendall’s senior he was scarcely any taller; there was perhaps the difference of an inch between the two. Ned was fleshy without being fat, carried himself very straight and had a round, good-natured face from which a pair of shrewd brown eyes twinkled. Kendall had already learned that it was only by watching Ned’s eyes that he could tell whether the latter was in earnest or only joking, for Ned could, and did, say the most outlandish things with the face of a truthful47 undertaker. Ned always looked trim. To-day he wore a suit of blue serge, a soft flannel48 shirt of gray, a blue knitted silk tie, black socks and rubber-soled tan Oxford49 shoes. And there was a little gold pin in his tie, a plain seal ring on one finger and from his watch dangled50 a leather fob with a Yardley seal in silver and enamel51. Kendall mentally resolved to have one just like it. He had seen them in a jeweler’s window in[138] Greenburg. And Kendall wondered why Ned’s clothes fitted him so well, and why his lisle socks showed never a hint of a wrinkle over his ankles. Kendall knew that some persons had their clothes made to order by tailors, and came to the conclusion that Ned was one of these fortunate mortals, a conclusion quite erroneous. Ned’s talk with the other boy was all about golf, and much of it Kendall couldn’t understand. When the teams trotted back to the field and Ned settled into his seat again Kendall asked:
“Are you at the head of the golf, Tooker?”
Ned looked amused. “I’m captain of the Golf Team,” he explained. “We’ve got a five-man match on with Broadwood here next Saturday. That’s what Kirk was talking about. We’ve never won a match from Broadwood yet, although we’ve met them three times.”
“Why is that?” Kendall asked.
“We haven’t the players they have. As a matter of fact, although it sounds like boasting, Curt, I’m the only member of our team that has a show with those chaps. Kirk isn’t bad, but he’s always unlucky, and he’s been beaten every time. This year he says he’s going to get revenge. He’s been practicing every day except Sundays, I guess, since school opened. Last spring he played a dandy game but drew Frost, who is Broadwood’s[139] best player, and so didn’t have any show from the start. By the way, don’t forget that you’re coming out to learn the game Monday. There goes the ball. Now, Yardley, get down to business.”
Perhaps the talk they had received from Payson in the gymnasium helped. At all events, Yardley’s players did get down to business, almost with the sound of the whistle, and in the ensuing ten minutes of playing time scored two touchdowns. Hammel missed both goals. It was Tom Roeder who proved the hero of that game. Tom tore through the Forest Hill line for short and steady gains that took the ball down the field in short order. Once Stearns got loose for an end run and once Simms worked a very pretty forward pass to Dan, but for the most it was persistent52 line-bucking that won the day.
In the fourth period, with the score 10 to 5, Yardley sent in many substitutes, one of them Arthur Thompson, who went in for Stearns. Arthur did very well, especially on defense53. Holmes took Simms’s position at quarter-back and ran the team in good shape. He was a gingery54 chap, and, while he knew less football than did Simms, and was a less spectacular player, he got more speed from the team in spite of the fact that, towards the last, it held six substitutes.[140] Yardley added a third touchdown to her score in the final minute of play, and Dan elected to try the goal himself. The handful of Forest Hill supporters jeered55 derisively56 as the ball left his toe, for it was apparently57 much too low. But some happy chance took it over the bar by an inch or so—there were some who declared the ball actually brushed the beam—and added another point to the final score of 16 to 5.
On the whole the game had been encouraging to Yardley’s hopes. Clearly outplayed in the first period, the Blue had managed to hold her adversary58 in the second and then, in the last two periods, “come back” and rush Forest Hill off her feet. It was what Ned, walking up the hill with his arm linked in Kendall’s, called “a fine recovery.”
Ned led Kendall across the Yard to Dudley and down the corridor to Number 2. Sanford was not at home. The room was small in comparison with those in Clarke, but it was more comfortable and had an open fireplace which Kendall envied Ned the possession of. For a half hour Ned showed golf clubs and explained their uses, told stories of matches won or lost and managed to get Kendall quite interested in the ancient and royal game. He even illustrated59 strokes with his clubs, to the imminent60 danger of the furniture.[141] Then Kendall discovered a line of mugs on the mantel and had to know about each. And about that time Teller61 Sanford came in, and Kendall, after a few moments, took himself off, Ned’s last words being, “Don’t forget, Curt; Monday at half-past three!”
There was a gathering62 of the talent in Number 28 Clarke that evening after supper; Tom Roeder, Al Simms, Sandy Fogg, Arthur Thompson, Grafton Holmes and, of course, Dan and Gerald. They replayed the game, as boys will, and gave and took criticism in good part. Neglected opportunities were regretted, mistakes explained and many “ifs” indulged in.
“I don’t believe,” said Sandy Fogg, the broad-shouldered, good-natured center, “I ever played in a game where there was less punting.”
“That’s so,” said Dan. “It was ‘old-fashioned football’ from start to finish. We should have had another score, though. In the second period we had a dandy chance down there on their thirty yards.”
“That was me,” said Simms. “I don’t know how it happened. Seemed as though that ball just jumped away from me!”
“I don’t regret what didn’t happen so much as what did,” observed Tom. “We ought never to have let them get that touchdown.”
[142]
“Oh, well,” said Holmes cheerfully, “what’s the good of post mortems? We beat ’em, and could have done it again right afterwards. We were slow in getting started, that’s all.”
“It won’t do to be so slow next Saturday,” said Dan. “Carrel’s has a pretty good team this year, I hear.”
“They’re light, though,” said Tom.
“There’s one thing we ought to find, Dan, if you don’t mind my butting64 into your affairs,” said Fogg, “and that’s some fellow who can kick a goal once out of twenty times.”
“I know,” assented Dan with a frown. “And don’t you think I’m not worrying about that as much as you are, Sandy. We all thought last year that Hammel was going to make good, but he doesn’t seem to get down to it at all. Payson’s going to have him out for morning practice next week and says all he needs is a little more confidence. I wish I’d let you try those goals this afternoon, Al.”
But Simms shook his head. “I’m glad you didn’t, Dan. I’d have slipped up sure on ’em. I was so afraid you were going to, after that second score, that I was afraid to look at you!”
“You should have put in the chap who was kicking[143] goals down at the field one morning last week,” said Arthur. “I watched him from the window for about ten minutes and it looked as though he couldn’t miss them.”
“Who was it?” asked Dan.
“I don’t know. I couldn’t make him out. One of the subs, I suppose.”
“Where was he kicking from?” asked Gerald. “The five yard line?”
“About thirty, I think. And from an angle, too.”
“Oh, come, Arthur,” laughed Dan, “you were looking through one of those crazy panes65 of glass in Oxford.”
“I was in Oxford, all right; Room C, it was; but there wasn’t anything the matter with my eyesight. I guess the fellow made ten or twelve tries and kicked more than half as many goals.”
Dan glanced about the room questioningly. “Who the dickens could it have been, fellows?” he asked in perplexity. “I don’t know any sub who can do that.”
“Or any regular, either,” murmured Tom.
“This was in the morning, you say?” asked Sandy Fogg.
“Yes, just after my Latin. I was waiting for some papers that Collins had.”
“Well, I don’t like to cast asparagus on your[144] eyesight, Arthur,” said Tom, with a smile, “but your story sounds fishy66.”
“What was he kicking, Thompson, drop or place?” asked Simms.
“drop at first, and then he tried placement.”
“From the thirty yards?” asked Dan skeptically.
“Yes; certainly not nearer, Dan; I wouldn’t swear it wasn’t nearer forty.”
“What did he look like? Had you ever seen him before? Was he alone?”
“Yes, he was all by his lonesome, and he looked sort of tall; about your height, maybe. He had his coat off and wore darkish clothes. That’s all I could see.”
“But why the dickens didn’t you say something about it? Have you seen him since?”
“No, but I haven’t looked for him. I didn’t say anything about it because I forgot it. And, anyway, I supposed you knew; thought you’d sent him down there to practice.”
“I wish I did know! A chap who can kick five goals out of ten would be a find. You’re not joking, Arthur?”
“Of course I’m not,” responded Arthur impatiently. “If you really don’t know who he is I advise you to find him, for he certainly could kick goals that day!”
[145]
“You bet I’ll find him! I’ll find him if I have to hire a regiment67 of detectives! Anyone guess who he is?”
But they all shook their heads.
“The only explanation I can offer,” said Tom, “is that Arthur went to sleep and dreamed it. I don’t believe there’s a fellow in school who can stand on the thirty yard line and drop-kick a goal from an angle once out of two tries. Either you were dreaming, Arthur, or what looked like goals weren’t.”
“That’s so,” agreed Dan. “At that distance it would be hard to tell. Sometimes you’re mistaken from the end of the field.”
“You fellows have it your own way,” said Arthur with a sigh of resignation. “I know what I saw.”
“Well, we will have to keep a lookout68 and see if we can catch him at it again,” said Dan. “And, for goodness’ sake, fellows, ask everyone you know. If there really is a goal-kicker in our midst we can surely find him.”
“Well, he will have to show me,” said Tom, still unconvinced. “Look here, Arthur, it wasn’t Wallace, was it?”
“No, I’d know Hammel a mile off. Besides, I met and spoke69 to him ten minutes later in the corridor. No, it wasn’t he.”
[146]
“Let’s advertise,” suggested Holmes. “A notice in Oxford might fetch him.”
“Sure,” Simms agreed. “‘If the student who practiced goal-kicking on the field last week will call on Dan Vinton he will hear of something to his advantage.’ Something like that, eh?”
“I’ll try that if everything else fails,” said Dan grimly. “A good drop- or place-kicker will be worth about a million dollars to me this season.”
“We’ll find him all right,” said Fogg. “He’s probably one of the subs who has discovered he can kick and hasn’t the sense to say anything about it.”
“As for me,” said Tom, “I’m like the countryman at the menagerie when he saw the hippopotamus70; I don’t believe there’s no such critter!”
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impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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prank
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| n.开玩笑，恶作剧；v.装饰；打扮；炫耀自己 | |
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pro
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| n.赞成，赞成的意见，赞成者 | |
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tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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lamentably
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scrawling
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attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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standing
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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hitch
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| v.免费搭(车旅行)；系住；急提；n.故障；急拉 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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optimist
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| n.乐观的人，乐观主义者 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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bucolic
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| adj.乡村的；牧羊的 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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judgment
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homely
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butt
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mighty
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tact
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diplomacy
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slumbering
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probation
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tack
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instructor
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rumor
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eluding
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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curt
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stark
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embarrassment
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lamely
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awfully
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fumble
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forth
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hurled
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pandemonium
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reigned
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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pessimists
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| n.悲观主义者( pessimist的名词复数 ) | |
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plunges
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| n.跳进，投入vt.使投入，使插入，使陷入vi.投入，跳进，陷入v.颠簸( plunge的第三人称单数 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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truthful
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| adj.真实的，说实话的，诚实的 | |
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flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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dangled
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| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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51
enamel
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| n.珐琅，搪瓷，瓷釉；(牙齿的)珐琅质 | |
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persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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gingery
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| adj.姜味的 | |
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jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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derisively
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| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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teller
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| n.银行出纳员；(选举)计票员 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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butting
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| 用头撞人（犯规动作） | |
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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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fishy
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| adj. 值得怀疑的 | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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69
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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hippopotamus
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| n.河马 | |
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