“See it?” exclaimed Loring.
Tom shook his head in puzzlement as Clif straightened up again. “Why, his shoulder, man!” said Loring impatiently. “First it’s way up like this where half the First Team’s linemen can see it. Then it disappears and after you’ve counted two the ball is snapped. That’s as regular as—as—why, it never fails! I timed it half a dozen times, Tom. Down went Jackson’s shoulder and from three-quarters to a second afterwards Ridgway snapped. Some one found that out and spread it. Now the First Team forwards watch Jackson’s shoulder instead of the ball or the men in front of them and when it ducks they charge. Sometimes they were past the line before the ball was in Jackson’s hands. If there had been a linesman he would have penalized First six or eight times; almost every time you chaps had the ball in the first half; but a referee or an umpire can’t see that sort of thing from where he stands. When Duval went in you began to make your plays good because the First wasn’t being tipped off when to start.”
“Heck!” murmured Tom. “So that was it! A simple little thing like that! My sainted Aunt Jerusha! And no one saw it!”
“I don’t see what your blamed old aunt’s got to do with it,” objected Clif disgustedly. “I’ve said all along, and so has Loring, that we ought to cut out passing to the quarter except when—”
“What’s the difference?” demanded Tom. “Sim would do the same thing if the pass was direct to the runner. He’s got to learn to keep his shoulder out of sight. Either that or quit! Say, I’ve known backs who gave the play away by shifting or moving their feet or something, but this is the first time I ever heard of a quarter giving the other team a starting signal! Heck, wouldn’t that jar you?”
“Well, I’m glad we know what’s wrong,” said Clif thankfully. “To-morrow—”
“To-morrow! Say, I’ve got to see ‘Cocky’!” Tom jumped for the door. “Loring, you win the spun glass crow-bar, old son! See you later!”
Then the door slammed.
Three minutes later Tom was enlightening a surprised, relieved and somewhat chagrined “Cocky.” But after several minutes of explanations and questions and comments the coach suddenly looked puzzled. “But look here, Kemble. An hour ago you didn’t know any more than I did. How does it happen you come along now and—”