Bert smiled in as off-handed a manner as he could manage. “No one could have failed on that play,” he answered. “That hole was as wide as a barn door, Chick. Gus Thomas and Bus put out the tackle, and Couch—”
“Save your breath. I saw the play. I didn’t say you worked a miracle, did I? Just the same, you delivered the goods. And you got off so fast you blame near overran your interference, too! If that tackle hadn’t been playing too far in he could have smeared it easy. You want to watch out for that, Bert. Keep behind your interference, even if it slows you up. If you don’t you’ll mess the play.”
Later there was another word of commendation, this time from Mr. Cade. And, as before, it contained a warning. “You got through very prettily, Hollins, on that off-tackle play,” he said, “but you must be careful another time to let your interference reach the line well ahead of you. You were much too close on Savell. A good deal depends on timing yourself right, Hollins.” Mr. Cade smiled and turned away and Bert went on to the showers, not quite so pleased with himself.
“Some one,” he reflected as he squirmed under the spray, “is always taking the joy out of life! Still, I guess he’s right. I did hustle Savell a bit. Pshaw, there’s nothing to get high-hat about. It just happened to be the right sort of a play for me. I’m too light to do anything unless I have three or four other fellows helping me! I wish I weighed thirty pounds more, gosh ding it! Besides, what made that play easy was that New Falmouth expected Fitz would get the ball and were watching him to hit the other side. Trouble with me is I have to have a skirmish party go ahead of me and clean out the woods before I can get through!”
[CHAPTER VIII]
EXPERT ADVICE
As a result of these and similar cogitations he went to supper in a chastened frame of mind and refused to accept any of the clapping that greeted his appearance in dining hall as a personal tribute. Then, afterwards, emerging alone, he ran into Tommy Parish in the corridor and Tommy nailed him. Tommy, although he had recently finished a hearty supper, was munching salted peanuts without evident effort. He held out the small packet to Bert, but the latter shook his head.
“Won’t let you?” asked Tommy.
“I guess so, but I’m full up.”