“There’s Bill Trumbull—hello there, Bill! Well, to tell the truth, Grace, I don’t get much out of this new poetry. Flimsy stuff; doesn’t satisfy you somehow. The times call for another old Walt Whitman. That bird had ideas. He certainly hit some grand old truths. ‘Produce great men,’ he says; ‘the rest follows.’ Just as easy! Wow! There’s our team coming out now!” (prolonged cheering) “Well, there’s the old saying that the time brings the man. Can’t tell but there’s a future president right here in this crowd!”
“It might be you, John!” remarked Grace, laughing at the serenity with which he returned to his subject after joining in the uproar.
“No, Grace; I’ve chosen the chief justiceship!” he said, swinging round at her. “Isn’t that Daisy Martin?—Fred Ragsdale with her. Hello, Fred! and if, there ain’t old Pop Streeter! Greetings Pop! No, sir; the times call for men and we’re going to produce a fine new crop right out of this generation here present.”
Moore was enjoying himself; there was no question of it. And Grace was experiencing a grateful sense of security in John’s company. He was paying her his highest compliment, and she knew that the money for his excursion to the capital had been earned by his own labor. Her girl friends at the university had tormented her a good deal about John’s attentions, which were marked by the shy deference and instinctive courtesy with which he treated all women. He was not a person to be flirted with; Grace had never in the prevalent phrase “teased him along.” She respected him too much for that, and, moreover, he was not fair game. Any attempt to practice on him the usual cajoleries and coquetries would have sent him away running. When a girl visitor at the university, meeting John at a dance, had referred to him as a hick, Grace had resented it on the spot, informing the surprised offender that John Moore was the finest gentleman on the campus.
John was not wholly silenced by the spirited opening of the game.
“Too bad Crump’s not here. Hurt his leg last week in practice. Thought he’d make it. Break his heart not to be in the game. Thompson in his place. You know Thompy? He’s a wonder on the trap drum. Wow! Illinois got the ball. Where was I? Oh, yes! I read Landor last summer—Walter Savage; a theological student from New York, working along with me out in Kansas, put me on to Landor. Quite a man—Landor, I mean. The theolog’s a bully chap, too, for that matter. Look at that! No; sending ’em back. Wow! That’s first blood for us! Well, you might like Landor if you took a whack at him. That referee’s awful fussy. Wonder where they got him. Remember that day we read ‘The Passing of Arthur,’ sitting on a log by that gay little creek in the woods? I’ve thought a lot about that and the way you cried. Yes; you did, Grace; and I guess I shed a few tears myself!...”
In moments of despair when Indiana’s fortunes were low, John’s optimism evoked laughter from his neighbors, for he possessed in good measure the homely humor which is indigenous to the corn-belt.
Before the game ended it had occurred to Grace to ask John to go home with her for supper. After they had joined in the demonstration for the victorious Hoosier team and had made their way to the street she went into a drugstore and called her mother on the telephone. Mrs. Durland replied cordially that she would be delighted to see John; it was too late to put on any extras but any friend of Grace’s was always welcome. It would serve to ease the situation she had left behind her to take John home, Grace reflected, and moreover, she was glad of an excuse for seeing more of him.
“Of course I’ll be glad to break bread with you. I’ll be glad to see your folks again. If you’re not too tired, let’s walk. Fine zippy air! Well, that was sure some game! I nearly died an unnatural death about seven times in the last quarter, but we managed to pull through. Let’s see, what were we talking about?”
He let her into a great secret as they crossed the park toward the Durland house. He had seen Judge Sanders, the senior member of one of the best law firms in the capital and a university trustee, who had offered to take him into his office.