“Piffle! They’re no use to me. Call it a loan if you like. You can hand them back after the season’s through—if there’s anything left of them! Good bye.”
So ended Cal’s mutiny.
Half-way through the park [he stopped and examined the contents of the bundle]. There was a very fair pair of khaki breeches, properly padded on hip and knee, a somewhat threadbare cherry-red jersey with a three-corner tear on one sleeve and what seemed to be a brand-new pair of red stockings. He felt very proud of these new possessions, very proud, too, that Brooks had assured him that in spite of his own misgivings he was really of some use to the team. He made up his mind to buckle down and do the best that was in him, even if, at the end, he was destined to be only an onlooker when the battles raged. And without intentional disrespect to Sandy, he heartily wished that Frank Brooks was leader at West House.
A fairly uneventful week followed. He neither heard nor saw anything more of Miss Molly Elizabeth Curtis and he and the rest of the House forgot their misgivings. They talked of her once or twice during the first few days and then, as she didn’t obtrude herself, thought no more about her. Football practice went on six days in the week. They were hard at signal work now, and Cal, playing tackle on the second eleven, had grown interested in his duties. The first game was only a week away and already the air was surcharged with excitement. House boys began to sport their cherry-red and Hall fellows their blue. Football became the subject for conversation at every meal and Mrs. Linn, as was her yearly custom, displayed a well-meaning but frightfully ignorant interest in the game. Lessons suffered proportionally as football fever increased and the instructors, notably Mr. Kendall, familiarly known as Grouch, railed and scolded. Only Mr. Fordyce, who taught English and physics, and who was called Fussy, took it philosophically, apparently realizing that in a month or so affairs would be back on their accustomed plane and no one the worse. For once Fussy belied his title. Mr. James, in whose room Cal had his desk, might have been expected to be more lenient with the fellows in their football madness than anyone else, since as physical instructor he had direct charge of the players. But Jim, as he was called, drew a hard and fast line between class-room and playground and so far as he was concerned athletic prowess was no excuse for lack of attention to studies. Several of the boys found this out during the last of October and the first of November, and it was a dull week indeed when someone was not absent from practice on either Hall or House field because Jim believed that a cessation of athletic industry would improve class standing.
[He stopped and examined the contents of the bundle]
At West House football put Ned’s misfortune out of everyone’s mind, excepting Ned’s and Cal’s. The mystery remained unexplained, but the generally accepted theory, introduced by Ned himself, was that the money had been mislaid and would sooner or later be discovered. Cal appreciated his room-mate’s generosity in seeking by every means to keep suspicion from him, but he hadn’t forgiven Ned for himself suspecting. The breach widened rather than lessened as the days went by, and Cal wasn’t very happy. Rooming with a chap to whom you have nothing to say and who has nothing to say to you is an uncomfortable business. Neither Ned nor Cal knowingly gave any evidence of the estrangement, but it didn’t take the other boys long to discover it. At another time it would have occasioned more interest; just now football was the only topic holding anyone’s attention.
On the Monday before the first game Frank Brooks finished his experiments and the First Team as it lined up that afternoon was the team that would face the Hall, barring accidents. West House had secured five places. Sandy was at left guard, Dutch at left tackle, Spud at left end, Ned at right half-back and The Fungus at left half-back. That left six places for East House. Brooks played right guard. The quarter-back was Will M’Crae and on him the Houses pinned much of their faith, for besides being a good general he was an exceptionally good punter. Hoop and Cal had drawn places amongst the substitutes, Hoop as a guard and Cal as a tackle. There had never been much sympathy between these two, for Hoop had a passion for saying mean things without really wanting to hurt, and Cal had not forgotten the incident attending his arrival at West House when Hoop had tripped him up on the steps. Dutch and Hoop got along splendidly together as room-mates, for Dutch was good-natured to a degree and paid very little attention to his chum’s gibes. Most anyone could have got on with Dutch Zoller. Being together in the substitute ranks, however, brought Cal and Hoop together a good deal and Cal soon got to liking the other very well and it wasn’t long before he had ceased entertaining any animosity toward Hoop for the little incident on the steps. They walked back to West House together that Monday afternoon after practice was over and discussed their chances of getting into the first game. By this time Cal had cultivated quite a keen interest in football and no one worked harder or took his knocks more cheerfully.