“Surest thing you know!” agreed George.
“On the other hand, if we look at football as merely a—a gentleman’s pastime, the spying part is hard to defend. It’s rather a difficult question to answer, Chester.”
“A football campaign,” declared George convincedly, “is exactly like real war. We form our army, we train it, we map out a campaign, we plan strategies. If the enemy has weak spots in its—its battle-line we want to know it so we can throw the brunt of our attack there. As long as the other fellow doesn’t hide behind fences and hold secret practice we’ve got a perfect right to go and watch him and learn what we can. It’s done all the time. All the big colleges do it and I’ve never heard any objections made before. Why, bless you, fellows, Springdale will be over here scouting in a couple of weeks!”
“Just the same,” returned Chester, using his favorite expression, and bringing a smile to Lanny’s face, “no more of it for me, if you please!”
“Is that how you feel, Lanny?” Dick inquired.
“I guess it is, Dick. I don’t say I wouldn’t do it again if you say it’s all fair and right, but I didn’t like it to-day very much. For my part, I can’t see why it should be necessary. If all the teams agreed not to do it I suppose we’d get on just as well. After all, it doesn’t do much good, I guess. A team doesn’t show its real stuff until its big game. I think we could get on without it.”
“I’m perfectly willing to try,” said Dick. “Somehow, now that you mention it, it doesn’t seem quite—well, gentlemanly. But that raises the question, Lanny, of how far we can go and act like gentlemen. Is it fair, for instance, to read about the other team’s progress in the newspapers?”
“Quite, I’d say,” replied Lanny. “Seems to me that’s different. If information gets into the papers that’s their lookout, and anyone has a right to read it.”
“If scouts get into their grandstand that’s their business, too,” said George. “What’s the difference?”