“The Broadwood Academy Press announces for early publication ‘Personal Recollections of Booth’; by Gibson.”
Football practice on Monday was hard and long. Several second string players were temporarily promoted to the First Team, for a number of the regulars were still showing the effects of Saturday’s game. Kendall played two periods and then yielded his position to Fayette and was sent off. On Tuesday, however, strains and bruises were healed and the First Team lined up as on Saturday, with the exception that Adler was in place of Metz at right end. Oliver Colton, a former Yardley captain, arrived on Tuesday and stayed until the end of the week, putting in three days of hard coaching. Under his tuition the guards and tackles improved perceptibly. The first serious accident of the season happened Wednesday, when Lin Johnson, center of the Second Team, broke a shoulder blade and did it in such a messy way that there was no question of any more football for him that season. Ireland, who had been playing full-back on Hough’s team, took Johnson’s place, but he didn’t make much of a center and the First, when it wanted a gain through the middle of the opposing line, spoke of taking “a short trip through Ireland.” But the Second struggled on gamely and, if it was no longer able to score touchdowns on the First, sometimes got a field-goal over.
The mass-meetings began Thursday night. Everyone piled into Assembly Hall on the top floor of Oxford and listened to speeches by Mr. Payson and Captain Merriwell and Mr. Bendix, Physical Director, and sang the old songs and experimented with new ones, and cheered themselves hoarse. The Banjo and Mandolin Club provided the music, assisted by Perky Davis at the piano, and its efforts to master some of the tunes offered by enthusiastic amateur composers occasioned much merriment among the audience below the stage. Afterward Kendall, who had promised himself an hour’s tussle with algebra that evening, went back alone to Number 28, Gerald and Harry wandering off with Pete Girard to the latter’s room in Dudley. To Kendall’s disgust, when he reached Number 28 he found the door ajar and Charles Cotton seated at the table apparently deeply immersed in calculations with pencil and paper. Kendall disguised his surprise and disappointment and greeted the visitor politely if without overmuch enthusiasm. Cotton, however, seemed to notice no lack of warmth.
“Just the fellow I wanted to see,” he announced, without rising from Kendall’s chair. “Saw you at the meeting, but lost you outside. I want you to see what you think of this scheme, Burtis.”
“What is it?” asked Kendall, tossing aside his cap and leaning over the other’s shoulder. On the table lay a square of paper rudely scrawled with circles and figures. “I’m not much good at puzzles, Cotton.”
“Oh, this isn’t a puzzle. It’s something new in football signals.”
“You don’t say? What’s the idea?”
“Well, look here. Have you got another chair? Bring it up, like a good fellow. I’m awfully interested in this and I want you tell me what you think of it. Now then,” he continued when Kendall had drawn a chair to the table and seated himself, “here’s the idea. You know the signals they use now are dreadfully complicated.”
“Are they?”
“Well, aren’t they? Take the Yardley system, for instance. We have two sets of signals, like this.” Cotton indicated his diagram. “Here are the holes numbered from 1 to 8. Then the two ends, the two tackles and the four backs are numbered from 1 to 8. Now that’s confusing, isn’t it?”