Maple Hill played Dudley Academy to a standstill the last Saturday in October, and as Dudley had a strong team that had proved hitherto well nigh impregnable the Green-and-Gray was well pleased. After battling for three ten-minute periods and struggling through six minutes of the final quarter, holding her opponent scoreless during that time, Maple Hill at last worked her way down to Dudley’s eight yard line, and then sent Gordon plunging through the much-boasted Dudley line for the only touchdown of the game. The fact that Tyson, who was called on to kick goal, failed miserably in the attempt, took away none of the glory of the hardest fought contest of the season. So Maple Hill saw November come in and the Bursley game approach with confidence.
But Fortune is always playing tricks, and football teams are seldom exempt from them. Four days after Dudley turned homeward with trailing banners, Wynant, right halfback on the first team, developed a fine case of water on the knee. That meant the substitution of Fuller and the withdrawal of Anson from the second team to the first. It also meant the promotion of Rodney from substitute to regular on the second. As Fuller was almost as good a back as Wynant, save in the matter of punting, the first team had not suffered a great deal by the latter’s loss. But it would be idle to say that Rodney acceptably filled the place left vacant by Anson. He had the weight and the strength, in short all the physical attributes necessary for his position, and he was fast on his feet, dodged cleverly, seldom fumbled a pass and possessed about everything he should have possessed for the making of a good halfback. But he lacked one thing, and even Cotting couldn’t put a name to it. The second team quarterback railed and stormed, begged and pleaded, and Rodney tried his level best. But his level best didn’t carry him far enough, and soon it was a settled custom to give the ball to the other half or to the fullback, or to draw one of the tackles back, when it was a case of, “Fourth down, Second! You’ve got to do it!”
But Fortune, presumably giggling to herself, wasn’t through even yet. After the Meadowdale game, which was lost by Maple Hill, strictly according to precedent and prophecy, Terry Doyle neglected his studies just once too often—he had an excuse if any boy did—and Nemesis in the shape of an outraged faculty reached out and seized upon him. Terry was off the team pending faculty consideration of his case.
The school received the news with consternation. Terry received it with, or so some said at least, bitter tears. But he did the only sensible thing. He handed over the temporary captaincy to Guy Watson, retired from the scene, and tried his best to get square again with his studies and the faculty. It was not believed that Terry’s banishment would be for long, but meanwhile it took another player from the second team and that player was Phineas Kittson. Kitty’s advance to the position of first substitute on the school team had been predicted weeks before. So there was nothing startling about it. But his withdrawal left the second badly off for players, and after struggling along for several days with six men in the line the team was dissolved a whole week earlier than usual, to be exact, on the eve of the game with St. Matthew’s, the next to the last contest of the season. Several of the second team were retained by Coach Cotting for the first, and among the several was Rodney. Perhaps Cotting still had hopes of the boy, or perhaps he felt it best to be prepared for future whims of Fortune by having plenty of backfield players. In any case, Rodney, who had never dared hope to reach the first team that year, now suddenly found himself a second substitute on it.
CHAPTER XX
RODNEY HESITATES
The St. Matthew’s game was played in a drizzle of rain on a field already slippery and sodden. St. Matthew’s sent a husky bunch of some twenty odd players, who, stripping off their blue and white sweaters, romped on to the field for their warming up. Beside them Maple Hill’s warriors looked frail and delicate. Tad, who with Pete Greenough had good-naturedly escorted the twins to the game, confided to Matty that for his part he didn’t see any use in playing the game, that it could be settled on the gymnasium scales.
“I think,” returned Matty loyally, “that our boys are very much nicer looking. Don’t you, May?”
“Ever so much,” replied her sister unhesitatingly.