Yardley’s first chance to score came within three minutes of the kick-off, after Forest Hill’s quarter had fumbled on the second play and Stark had fallen on the ball near the twenty-yard line. But although the Blue worked down to within twelve yards of the goal, the attack weakened and the pigskin changed hands. Forest Hill kicked on first down and the play went to the middle of the field. And about the middle of the field, with small advantage to either side, it stayed for the rest of the twelve-minute period, with neither team being able to gain much ground.
A minute or two before the whistle sounded The Duke carelessly arose, yawned, stretched and wandered away down the line. Now and then he paused to look back at the play or to speak to an acquaintance, but presently, having left the grand stand far behind, he doubled back and hurried around between the stand and the tennis courts, reappearing at the entrance just as the two teams, donning blankets, paused for the two-minute intermission. The Duke pushed his way through the throng with an important air and faced the sloping tiers.
“Mr. Gibson wanted at the telephone!” announced The Duke loudly. “Is Mr. Gibson here?”
Without appearing to look in his direction The Duke saw the Broadwood fellow start in his seat, look indecisively down and settle back again.
“Mr. Gibson wanted at the ’phone!” he continued, passing along in front of the stand. “Mr. Gibson wanted at the ’phone immediately. Is Mr. Gibson here?”
The fellows took up the cry. “Is Mr. Gibson here? O you Mr. Gibson! Show yourself, Gib! There he goes! Here he is! Who wants Gibson? I don’t! O you Mr. Gibson!”
At the first aisle a tall, broad-shouldered youth in a derby hat was picking his way down as unostentatiously as possible. The Duke turned back and met him as he reached the ground.
“Is your name Gibson?” he asked. The other nodded. “You’re wanted at the ’phone. I’ll show you where it is.”
Followed by the youth in the derby, The Duke pushed his way through the crowd about the entrance. Back of him a whistle shrilled and the teams lined up once more.
“Do you know who wants me?” asked Gibson as they started up the path.