Then the fifth line out from the end, or the twenty-five yard line, the point of kick-out, was made broader than the others, so it could be plainly distinguished. This was done at both ends of the field, and then the exact centre of the field, on the eleventh five-yard line, was marked with a large round spot to indicate the place of kick-off.
With this accomplished, the field was fully laid out, and the setting of the goal-posts, the most difficult task of all, followed. Sterndale selected four cedar posts which were long and straight and obtained two cross-bars which satisfied him in every particular. The posts were cut to a length of twenty-three feet, which gave an allowance of three feet to be sunk into the ground, and the cross-bars were somewhat more than nineteen feet long, as the posts were to be set exactly eighteen feet and six inches apart, it being necessary for the cross-bars to over lap, so that they might be securely spiked to the posts.
In setting the posts, the tape was stretched across the end of the field and the middle of the line marked, which was a distance of eighty feet from either side. This done, with the middle mark as a starting point, nine feet and three inches were measured off in opposite direction along the line, the two points for the posts being thus determined. Holes nearly three feet in depth were excavated at these points and the posts erected in them, the ground being packed solidly about them, causing them to stand securely without braces, which are needless and dangerous, as a player might trip over them or be forced upon them and injured.
When Scott and Bentley reached the field they found all the members of the newly-organized Rockspur Eleven were present, besides a number of youthful spectators and a few who were anxious to be classed as substitutes.
A little at one side from the others, Dick Sterndale, the handsome, manly-looking captain of the team, was essaying the drop-kick, coached by the boy Don Scott disliked, Dolph Renwood. Renwood was rather slender, although just now, in his padded football suit, he did not look so, and he had sharp, blue eyes, which to the village boys often seemed full of laughing scorn and contempt even while he spoke to them in a most serious or friendly manner. It was those eyes which caused the Rockspur lads to distrust Dolph for all of his apparent sincerity and interest in their sports and pleasures; and those eyes had done not a little to arouse the resentment of quick-tempered Don Scott, who bore half-hidden ridicule with less grace than open contempt.
The players’ bench used by the baseball team had been moved aside to make room for the football field, but it stood back by the rail in front of the bleachers, and Don walked toward it, passing close to Sterndale and Renwood. Having seated himself on the bench beside two small boys, he was able to overhear Renwood’s instructions to the captain of the team, although he pretended to be giving them no attention whatever.
“There are three ways to make a drop-kick,” Dolph was explaining. “You can’t do it any old way, Sterndale. In the first place, you must take hold of the ball right.”
“How’s that?” the big captain meekly asked.
“You may hold it with one hand, like this, with the point toward the goal, and drop it that way, taking a somewhat side-swinging kick; or you may hold it precisely the same with both hands and drop it; or, finally, you may hold it with both hands in this manner, pointing it away from the goal. It must never be dropped flat or directly upon the end. Now watch.”
The “coach” dropped the ball and kicked it handsomely, sending it sailing through the air in a long, graceful arc. It was pursued and captured by some small boys, who had a scrimmage over it, out of which one broke with it hugged under his arm and came running back toward Dick and Dolph.