On Thursday there was no scrimmage, but instead a hard two hours of drill. Fudge’s play was tried, but, since all proceedings were behind closed gates, we are not presumed to know how that child of his fertile brain turned out. Still, merely judging by Fudge’s pleased and important expression during the next day or two, it is allowable to suppose that the play proved satisfactory. On Friday the school marched in a body to the field with banners flying and purple megaphones beating time to the strains of “Clearfield’s Day” performed by Dahl’s Silver Cornet Band—eleven strong—and sung by some hundred and fifty voices. There was no scrimmage, but the two Varsity squads trotted up and down in signal work and kicked a few goals—or tried to—(for some reason Morris Brent wasn’t given an opportunity to prove his ability)—and the spectators stood up in the stand and cheered and sang at the behest of a boy with a yard-long megaphone and enthusiasm was rampant!
And at the end of twenty minutes or so the Scrub Team, who had finally doffed their uniforms the day before, gathered together in front of the stand and cheered the Varsity, and the Varsity squads joined forces nearby and heartily cheered the Scrubs, and all preliminaries were at last over and the stage was set for the performance!
CHAPTER XXIII
CABLE KICKS OFF
There was a final gathering of the council at Dick’s that evening, what time the School was conducting its last football mass-meeting in assembly hall. Lanny, Cottrell, Cotner and Tupper attended; and Dick, of course. Tupper had been asked to come since Dick wanted to go over carefully the plays that were to be used in the morrow’s game, and it had been decided that in case Lanny was forced to leave the team George Tupper should act as captain. They were all rather serious to-night. Lanny especially, showed the strain. Dick felt it but did not show it. Of the five, Chester Cottrell alone seemed fairly in his usual condition of mind.
Together they went through the game from start to finish, providing as well as they might for every contingency. Plays were prescribed for this situation and that, and Chester was put through an examination in the choice of them that would have staggered a less confident youth. One or two doubtful plays which had been placed in the repertory were now stricken out, for somehow this evening their judgment seemed to have found a new clarity.
“Sometimes I think we’ve got too many plays,” observed Dick doubtfully. “But we don’t have to use them I suppose.”
“The only objection to having a lot is that the fellows are liable to get them mixed,” said Lanny. “Still, if we drop 3 and 11 that leaves us only eight ‘freaks.’”
“I don’t like that word ‘freak,’” said Dick, with a smile. “I hope they won’t prove ‘freaks!’”
“Don’t you worry, Dick,” replied Chester heartily. “The plays we’ve got are all right. And you’ll find that they’ll keep Springdale guessing, too. The only one I’m scared of is that Number 10, the one Fudge calls his ‘secret play.’”