And Steve was gone, having wasted no time on ceremony.
Russell did think it over, during the ensuing few minutes before Stick came in and, later, when the light was out and he was curled up in bed. He knew that Gaston was right, and before he went to sleep he had determined that the second team coach should never again have cause to reproach him for holding back. Maybe Gaston took the whole thing too seriously, but that was up to Gaston. Russell’s duty was to obey orders.
The first journeyed to New Falmouth the next day and played High School. New Falmouth was a manufacturing town and the High School bunch was a very husky aggregation of youths who played the game of football earnestly and in a manner that doubtless won the warm commendation of Steve Gaston. It is possible, though, that they sometimes allowed their enthusiasm to lead them into devious ways, for there was much penalizing that afternoon and some cautioning, and if further proof was needed there was Nichols’ ensanguined nose and Mart Proctor’s extremely discolored eye! The game was lacking in science but not in interest, for it see-sawed back and forth as the twelve-minute periods passed and neither the goodly army of Alton supporters or the much larger assemblage of enthusiastic and strongly prejudiced New Falmouth cohorts dared predict a victory for its team. At the end of the first quarter Alton was in the lead, 6 to 0. When the half was done the teams were tied at 6 to 6. When the third period had passed into history, the Gray-and-Gold was once more trailing, for again New Falmouth had scored a touchdown, without, however, adding a goal to it. At the final tooting of the horn Alton was victorious by the narrow margin of one point, the complete score being 13 to 12. Mawson, succeeding where Mart Proctor had previously failed, had added the deciding point amidst the hostile howls and shrieks of the enemy. After that five minutes more of play had failed to alter the figures.
Alton had certainly not done herself proud, but she derived some joy from the victory and returned home with the notion that she had got her feet back on terra firma once more and that, come Monday, she would show that second team that it couldn’t bite her and get away with it! That was the team’s notion. The School wasn’t nearly so set-up, while Coach Cade, although he kept his own counsel, was not unduly optimistic. That slump was still hanging around, as the day’s game had shown, and he didn’t look for an immediate departure. Such maladies as that which held the Alton football eleven in its grip are mysterious and difficult to conquer. They must run their course, although that course may be shortened by skillful handling of the case. Having tried heroic measures for a week, Coach Cade now decided to try opposite methods. On Monday there was no work for any of those who had taken part in the New Falmouth game, and, consequently, no scrimmage with the second. On Tuesday the work was light, and again there was no meeting with the scrubs. The latter were chagrined and insulting. The first didn’t dare face them, they declared. Johnny was afraid to have them hurt. As a result of such charges there were two mix-ups between first and second team players, one in the locker-room that was halted this side of bloodshed, and one which was said to have gone four full rounds to no decision. The latter was held back of Haylow and witnessed by an appreciative audience in nearby windows. Neither affair did anything towards fostering that spirit of forbearance so deplored by Steve Gaston!
Meanwhile, from Kenly came bright reports of the Cherry-and-Black team, and Alton Academy settled down into deep pessimism on the subject of the big game. This, it was clear, was not to be an Alton year. Youths of literary proclivities wrote indignant letters to the school weekly—a few of which were published—and wherever two or more were gathered together the invariable subject of discourse was What’s the Matter with the Team? In such unsatisfactory way the early season passed and the Mount Millard game loomed closely ahead.
[CHAPTER XVII]
STICK CONFIDES HIS TROUBLES
On Wednesday of that week Crocker’s Hardware Store had announced in the paper a twenty per cent reduction in the price of athletic goods. Also, as Jimmy had discovered that morning, one window of Crocker’s had been devoted to a display of football supplies and a general athletic miscellany. Rather an attractive window it had been, too, although the dresser had evidently experienced some difficulty in finding sufficient articles with which to fill it, since he had eked out with canoe paddles, baseball bats and a lunch hamper. Jimmy had reported the matter with some concern to Russell and that morning and the mornings following had spent a large part of his time at the front door prepared to accost any person looking like a prospective buyer of athletic goods before he could get as far as Crocker’s. But Russell had not seemed greatly worried, and events proved that he had had no reason for worry. If there was no great growth in trade at the Sign of the Football, neither was there any perceptible falling off; and Jimmy, who kept a sharp watch on the rival establishment, reported that so far as he could determine Crocker’s was getting no more custom than usual.
Even with that twenty per cent discount it was doubtful if Crocker’s prices were yet lower than those of the Sign of the Football, and until they were Russell saw no reason for lowering his own prices. Stick spent a miserable week, fearing financial ruin and doing surreptitious figuring on scraps of paper. Russell was never allowed to see those figures, but he could guess what they meant. Business was really good now, and as the days of that week passed without any lessening of it Stick was almost encouraged to take hope. But it took a great deal to make Stick optimistic and he was still lugubrious when Saturday came. Russell sought to cheer him up by displaying figures that represented the week’s sales and the net profits, but Stick only viewed them moodily and sniffed.