“That’s what I say,” replied Jelly importantly. “Gus is going to have us away ahead of the First if Hopkins doesn’t watch out.”
Perhaps Jelly’s prediction came to the captain’s ear. At all events, the following afternoon the First, or School, team began signal practice, and two days later the first scrimmage of the year took place. Devens had done his work pretty well and the Second was successful in standing off the First during two ten-minute periods. Evan played at left end for a few minutes toward the finish of the last half and made rather a mess of it. He recognized the fact and wished that some one might tell him where his mistakes were. But there was no one to do it save Captain Devens, and Devens had too much on his hands already. The quota of candidates had swollen to over forty and just before the first contest, that with the Cardiff High School, Hopkins made his final cut, retaining seventeen candidates. Devens went over what was left and retained fifteen in all. The School Team, as it lined up against Cardiff on Wednesday afternoon, contained five of last years veterans, while the rest had played on the Second.
The game was not exciting, Cardiff proving to be weak in every department. On the other hand, Riverport carried off few honors. Law’s punting was good and Hopkins at left guard, and Reid at right tackle showed that they had not forgotten how to play. But the line, as a whole, was slow and listless, and against a faster team would have made a sorry showing. The backfield was rather a farce, if we except Joe Law at left. Miller, the quarter, was neither brilliant nor steady, and in the second half, in which Cardiff showed for a few minutes a flash of real form, Hopkins ran the team himself. In the last few minutes of play every substitute was used, and Grove, who replaced Miller, seemed to put some drive into the play. On the whole the game was featureless and rather valueless, since the opponents were not strong enough to show up Riverport’s real weaknesses. However, nothing much is expected of the first contest, and Hopkins seemed well enough satisfied. At least, there was little criticism from him. Prentiss, who spent his time making memoranda on the side-line, had a good deal to say afterwards and was generous with stricture. But nobody paid much attention to Prentiss. He wasn’t popular and the players resented his meddling, since, as he didn’t play the game himself, he wasn’t presumed to know much about how it should or shouldn’t be played.
On Thursday Evan was tried at end again on the Second. He did a trifle better, but Devens soon took him out in favor of Abbott and he spent the rest of the scrimmage sitting disgruntled on the side-line. Later, in the gymnasium, Devens came over to him.
“You don’t seem to fit in at end, Kingsford,” he began kindly enough. “You never played there much, eh?”
“Never until the other day,” answered Evan soberly. “I told you when I started in that quarter or half was my line.” Devens nodded.
“I remember, but we have pretty good halfs and a good quarter. So I thought maybe I could make an end of you. What do you think? Want to try it some more?” Evan thought a minute. Then,
“I don’t believe it’s much use,” he said frankly. “If there was some one to coach me a bit I think I could get the hang of it, but there isn’t. I’d like to get a show at quarter, Devens; I think I could make good there.”
“Well, we’ll see. There’s lots of time yet. You hang on, Kingsford.”