CHAPTER XXI
THE NEW PLAYS ARE TRIED
The football council, or board of strategy, as George Cotner liked to call it, met at Dick’s house Sunday night. Gordon, who had dropped around to call, was included. Lanny, Chester Cottrell and Cotner were the other members. None save Dick knew of Morris’s injury until Dick made it known. Then consternation indeed did reign.
“Do you mean,” demanded Lanny, “that he won’t be able to play at all against Springdale?”
“The doctor forbids it. The leg isn’t broken anywhere, but it’s had a bad wrench and Morris says he simply laughed at him when he asked if it would be well enough by the eighteenth for him to play. He’s on his back to-day and must stay there until Tuesday at least. I went around there this afternoon. Morris isn’t—” Dick smiled slightly—“isn’t awfully cheerful company just now!”
“But—but that puts us in a beast of a hole!” exclaimed Lanny. “Can Tupper kick a goal if he has a chance?”
“The best Tupper has done is something like four out of ten tries from around the twenty-yard line and at almost no angle. I think by next year George will be a fairly good drop-kicker, but there isn’t much hope for this year. Of course, we’ll keep him at it and make him do the best he can, but there’s no use counting on him much in the Springdale game, fellows.”
Lanny laughed mirthlessly. “Pleasant news, isn’t it?” he asked of the assemblage. “It might save us trouble to forfeit the game.”
“We’re not beaten yet,” responded Dick. “Besides you chaps and me and the doctor, no one knows of this; excepting Morris’s folks, of course, and they, as well as the doctor, have been sworn to secrecy. Now I want you fellows to agree not to breathe a word of it to anyone; not to even talk of it amongst yourselves.”
They each nodded, looking, however, rather mystified.