The first period ended after four more plays and the teams donned blankets and rested. Then the whistle blew again and the game went on. Yardley pulled herself together then and managed to stop the Forest Hill plunges, although the latter twice won her distance in that second period. Once Yardley got to Forest Hill’s thirty yards, but only to lose the ball on a fumble. The second period ended with the score still five to nothing and the two teams trotted off the field and up the hill to the gymnasium.
A boy further along the row engaged Ned in conversation, and Kendall, leaning back in his seat, studied his new friend. Although Ned was two years Kendall’s senior he was scarcely any taller; there was perhaps the difference of an inch between the two. Ned was fleshy without being fat, carried himself very straight and had a round, good-natured face from which a pair of shrewd brown eyes twinkled. Kendall had already learned that it was only by watching Ned’s eyes that he could tell whether the latter was in earnest or only joking, for Ned could, and did, say the most outlandish things with the face of a truthful undertaker. Ned always looked trim. To-day he wore a suit of blue serge, a soft flannel shirt of gray, a blue knitted silk tie, black socks and rubber-soled tan Oxford shoes. And there was a little gold pin in his tie, a plain seal ring on one finger and from his watch dangled a leather fob with a Yardley seal in silver and enamel. Kendall mentally resolved to have one just like it. He had seen them in a jeweler’s window in Greenburg. And Kendall wondered why Ned’s clothes fitted him so well, and why his lisle socks showed never a hint of a wrinkle over his ankles. Kendall knew that some persons had their clothes made to order by tailors, and came to the conclusion that Ned was one of these fortunate mortals, a conclusion quite erroneous. Ned’s talk with the other boy was all about golf, and much of it Kendall couldn’t understand. When the teams trotted back to the field and Ned settled into his seat again Kendall asked:
“Are you at the head of the golf, Tooker?”
Ned looked amused. “I’m captain of the Golf Team,” he explained. “We’ve got a five-man match on with Broadwood here next Saturday. That’s what Kirk was talking about. We’ve never won a match from Broadwood yet, although we’ve met them three times.”
“Why is that?” Kendall asked.
“We haven’t the players they have. As a matter of fact, although it sounds like boasting, Curt, I’m the only member of our team that has a show with those chaps. Kirk isn’t bad, but he’s always unlucky, and he’s been beaten every time. This year he says he’s going to get revenge. He’s been practicing every day except Sundays, I guess, since school opened. Last spring he played a dandy game but drew Frost, who is Broadwood’s best player, and so didn’t have any show from the start. By the way, don’t forget that you’re coming out to learn the game Monday. There goes the ball. Now, Yardley, get down to business.”
Perhaps the talk they had received from Payson in the gymnasium helped. At all events, Yardley’s players did get down to business, almost with the sound of the whistle, and in the ensuing ten minutes of playing time scored two touchdowns. Hammel missed both goals. It was Tom Roeder who proved the hero of that game. Tom tore through the Forest Hill line for short and steady gains that took the ball down the field in short order. Once Stearns got loose for an end run and once Simms worked a very pretty forward pass to Dan, but for the most it was persistent line-bucking that won the day.
In the fourth period, with the score 10 to 5, Yardley sent in many substitutes, one of them Arthur Thompson, who went in for Stearns. Arthur did very well, especially on defense. Holmes took Simms’s position at quarter-back and ran the team in good shape. He was a gingery chap, and, while he knew less football than did Simms, and was a less spectacular player, he got more speed from the team in spite of the fact that, towards the last, it held six substitutes. Yardley added a third touchdown to her score in the final minute of play, and Dan elected to try the goal himself. The handful of Forest Hill supporters jeered derisively as the ball left his toe, for it was apparently much too low. But some happy chance took it over the bar by an inch or so—there were some who declared the ball actually brushed the beam—and added another point to the final score of 16 to 5.
On the whole the game had been encouraging to Yardley’s hopes. Clearly outplayed in the first period, the Blue had managed to hold her adversary in the second and then, in the last two periods, “come back” and rush Forest Hill off her feet. It was what Ned, walking up the hill with his arm linked in Kendall’s, called “a fine recovery.”
Ned led Kendall across the Yard to Dudley and down the corridor to Number 2. Sanford was not at home. The room was small in comparison with those in Clarke, but it was more comfortable and had an open fireplace which Kendall envied Ned the possession of. For a half hour Ned showed golf clubs and explained their uses, told stories of matches won or lost and managed to get Kendall quite interested in the ancient and royal game. He even illustrated strokes with his clubs, to the imminent danger of the furniture. Then Kendall discovered a line of mugs on the mantel and had to know about each. And about that time Teller Sanford came in, and Kendall, after a few moments, took himself off, Ned’s last words being, “Don’t forget, Curt; Monday at half-past three!”