“Ned? Why, he isn’t in! He’s on the bench down there.”
“Sure! That’s what I mean. You don’t see him grabbing the ball away from Brattle and losing two or three yards at a time. No, sir; he just sits right there, half asleep, and makes High School work for the game. Every time he doesn’t take the ball, Nod, he saves us three or four yards. He’s a hero, that’s what he is. If Mulford would get all the rest of them back on the bench, we might win.”
“You’re crazy,” laughed Laurie.
During the intermission, Laurie’s wandering gaze fell on two girls a dozen seats away. One, whom he had never seen before, displayed a cherry-and-black pennant and belonged unmistakably to the high school cohort. She was a rather jolly-looking girl, Laurie decided, with a good deal of straw-colored hair and a pink-and-white skin. Her companion was evidently divided as to allegiance, for she had a cherry-and-black ribbon pinned on the front of her dress and wore a dark-blue silken arm-band. For a moment Laurie wondered why she looked familiar to him. Then he recognized her as Polly Deane. The two girls appeared to be alone, although some boys in the row behind were talking to them.
So far, the twins had not been back to the little shop on Pine Street, but Laurie resolved now that he would drop around there very soon and pay his bill before his money was gone. After paying the school bill for the first half-year, he and Ned had shared slightly more than twenty dollars, but since then there had been many expenses. They had each had to purchase playing togs and stationery, and, finally, had donated two dollars apiece to the football fund at the mass-meeting Friday night of the week before.
Viewed from a financial standpoint, that meeting hadn’t been a great success, and it was no secret that, unless more money was forthcoming, the team would be obliged to cancel at least one of its away-from-home games. But it had resulted in bringing out a big field of candidates, and there had been a lot of enthusiasm. The next day, viewing his reduced exchequer, Laurie had ruefully observed that he guessed a dollar would have been enough to give, but Ned had called him a “piker” and a “tight-wad” and other scornful things. Yesterday Ned had borrowed half a dollar, which was more than a fourth of Laurie’s remaining cash; and the first of October was still a week distant. Realizing the latter fact, Laurie changed his mind about settling his account at the Widow Deane’s. But, he reflected, with another friendly glance in Polly’s direction, it wouldn’t be right to withhold his trade from the store. And he wasn’t anywhere near the limit of indebtedness yet!
Two listless periods followed the intermission, the only inspiring incident coming when, near the end of the third quarter, Pope, Hillman’s full-back, foiled in his attempt to get a forward pass away, smashed past the enemy and around his left end for a run that placed the pigskin six yards short of the last white line. From there the home team managed to push its way to a touch-down, the third and last score of the day. The final figures were 10 to 7 in Hillman’s favor, and neither side was very proud of the outcome.
Ned returned to Number 16 half an hour later in a most critical frame of mind, and spent ten minutes explaining to Laurie just when and how the school team had failed. At last Laurie interrupted him to ask, “Have you told this to Mr. Mulford, Ned?”
“Mr. Mulford? Why—oh, go to the dickens!”
“Seems to me he ought to know,” said Laurie, gravely.