The bell rang and the group began to move. “I’d like to see a few signs of over-confidence,” said Harrison. “Everything seems to me to be going the other way.”
For the mid-week practice Yards brought out a team of Westcott graduates from college, who could furnish to the reorganized school eleven something sturdy on which to try their plays. Mac ran his game with few errors and handled punts like a veteran; the ends got three out of four forward passes; Bumpus wrestled valiantly against a big sophomore in the line, puffing and blowing and perspiring, but fully holding his own. The result was in the main encouraging.
Dunn stood on the side-lines, dressed for play and ready to be called in if necessary. While he waited and observed the game, jesting aloud with Stover to show the bystanders how little his spirits were affected by his retirement from the team, Dunn noticed a stoutly built, showily dressed man, with a square face darkened by a heavy, close-shaven beard, who, while following the play, seemed at the same time to be interested in the conversation around him. Presently the stranger, having apparently made inquiries concerning Dunn from some of the smaller boys, called him aside and talked with him a few minutes out of earshot of the spectators. At the close of the conversation he put a slip of paper into Dunn’s hand and disappeared.
Some time later, as Harrison trotted from the field across toward the locker house, he passed Stover and Dunn going in the same direction.
“What do you think of Bumpus now?” he called over his shoulder as he went by.
“You can make a football player out of ’most any fat old thing,” returned Stover. “It’s different in baseball. I say, stop a minute, Harry!”
Harrison turned round. “What is it?”
“We want to see you as soon as you get dressed about something important, very important! We’ll give you fifteen minutes.”
Before the allotted time was up, the captain emerged from the locker house, pulling on his coat as he came. Dunn followed him. Stover drew them both into a corner. “Do you know Jake Callahan?” he asked.
“The Newbury coach? I know who he is.”