HARMON 
 
 RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
 
 -\
 
 
 LEFT HALF HABMON
 
 "Go out and play full-back as it should
 
 Left Half Harmon 
 
 BY 
 RALPH HENRY BARBOUR 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 LEFT END EDWARDS, 
 QUARTER-BACK BATES, 
 FULL-BACK FOSTER, ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 
 LESLIE CRUMP 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP 
 
 PUBLISHERS NEW YORK 
 
 'Made in the United State* of America
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1921 
 Br DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, IHO.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I THE THREE GUARDSMEN ... 1 
 
 II KIDNAPPED! 17 
 
 III HELD BY THE ENEMY ... . . 29 
 
 IV HARMON COMES TO TERMS ... 37 
 V THE WRONG BOY 53 
 
 VI FIRST DAYS AT ALTON .... 65 
 
 VII IN THE COACH'S ROOM ... 76 
 
 VIII THE BOY IN THE GREEN SWEATER . 87 
 
 IX McNATT ON SCIENCE .... 101 
 
 X ALTON SQUEEZES THROUGH . . 116 
 
 XI THE FIRST DEFEAT .... 128 
 
 XII " Do YOUR BEST" .... 146 
 
 XIII A FORTY- YARD RUN . . . .157 
 
 XIV ONIONS! 167 
 
 XV MARTIN CALLS QUITS .... 180 
 
 XVI DIPLOMACY 193 
 
 XVII McNATT JOINS THE TEAM ... 213 
 
 XVIII REVENGE! 227 
 
 XIX BLACK PAINT . . . . .239 
 
 XX EVIDENCE 250 
 
 XXI BOB SAYS So 262 
 
 XXII ON PROBATION 274 
 
 XXIII MCNATT TRIES PHOTOGRAPHY . . 287 
 
 XXIV ALTON CELEBRATES 302 
 
 . 
 

 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 "Go out and play full-back as it should be 
 played" Frontispiece 
 
 1 ' You don 't come that, Harmon ! That 's off ! 
 You hear me?" 54 
 
 One brief instant they tarried to admire . 242 
 It was Alton's day all through . ... . 310
 
 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE THREE GUABDSMEF 
 
 AT a few minutes past three o'clock on a par- 
 ticularly warm afternoon in late September of 
 last year three boys removed themselves and 
 their luggage from the top of a Fifth Avenue 
 stage in New York City and set forth eastward 
 along Forty-second Street. Although decidedly 
 dissimilar in looks and slightly dissimilar in 
 build, they showed, nevertheless, a certain uni- 
 formity of carriage and action and, to a lesser 
 degree, of attire. There was nothing strange in 
 that, however, since, for the last two years, at 
 least, they had spent nine months of the twelve 
 in the same place, at the same pursuits and 
 under the same discipline. The likeness of attire 
 was less in material and color than in a certain 
 tasteful avoidance of the extremes. Joe Myers 
 and Martin Proctor wore blue serge and Bob 
 Newhall a brownish-gray tweed, and in no case 
 was the coat snugged in to the figure or adorned 
 
 1
 
 2 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 with a belt in conformity to the dictums of the 
 Rochester school of sartorial art. Joe and Bob 
 wore gray-and-gold ribbons about their straw 
 hats, Martin a plain black. Each of the three 
 carried a brown leather suitcase, and, had you 
 looked closely, you would have discovered on 
 each bag, amongst numerous other labels, a gray 
 triangle bearing two A's in gold snuggled to- 
 gether in a pyramid-shaped monogram. 
 
 At Grand Central Station they crossed the 
 street, showing a superb indifference to the traf- 
 fic. The driver of a pumpkin-hued taxi-cab, 
 whose countenance and manner of driving sug- 
 gested that he had cut many notches in his steer- 
 ing-wheel, yielded to a momentary weakness and 
 jammed on his emergency brake, thereby allow- 
 ing the three boys to step calmly and unhur- 
 'riedly from his path. They seemed not to have 
 observed their danger, and yet, having gained 
 the sidewalk unharmed, one of them turned and 
 rewarded the taxi man with a grave wink which 
 threw the latter into a state of apoplectic anger. 
 
 1 'Guess," observed Bob with a chuckle, "we 
 spoiled his entire day!" 
 
 "Don't worry," responded Martin. "He'll 
 kill enough to make up for losing us!" 
 
 Inside the station, they turned their steps to-
 
 THE THREE GUARDSMEN 3 
 
 ward the right and set their bags down near 
 one of the ticket windows. "You get them," 
 Joe," said Bob. "Here's mine." He proffered 
 a five-dollar bill, but Joe waved it aside. 
 
 "I'll pay for them and you can settle on the 
 train. I'll get all mixed up if you give me the 
 money now." He took a rather fat wallet from 
 an inner pocket of his coat and stepped into the 
 line leading to the nearest wicket. The others 
 moved their own suitcases and Joe's out of the 
 way of the passers and settled themselves to 
 wait. Martin compared the watch on his wrist 
 with the station clock and yawned. 
 
 "Nearly twelve minutes yet," he observed. 
 
 Bob nodded. "What about parlor-car seats!" 
 he asked. 
 
 "There aren't any on this train." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 Martin concealed another yawn with the back 
 of a sunburned hand. "No parlor-car, dearie. 
 You'll have to wait until five-ten for that, and it 
 isn't worth it. I wouldn't wait in this Turkish 
 bath another hour if they promised me a special 
 train! Got anything to read in your bag?" 
 
 Bob was about to answer in the affirmative 
 when a sudden shout from the ticket window 
 interrupted and both boys looked across in time
 
 4 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 to see Joe clutch unsuccessfully at the arm of a 
 man who, swinging away from the window, now 
 started to run fast toward the nearest exit. Per- 
 haps Bob or Martin, had he sensed instantly 
 what was happening, might have intercepted the 
 man, but he had a good start before either of 
 them realized that the black object he slipped 
 into a pocket as he ran was Joe's wallet, and 
 "so it was Joe himself who led the evidently futile 
 chase, Joe shouting "Stop him! Stop him!" 
 most lustily. Abandoning suitcases, Bob and 
 Martin dashed after. 
 
 The thief showed skill born of experience as 
 he dodged his way toward the door, avoiding a 
 stout lady with two small children in tow one 
 instant and side-stepping a bundle-laden mes- 
 senger boy the next and scarcely lessening his 
 speed. Joe had poorer luck, however, for, al- 
 though he got safely past the stout lady by a 
 miracle of dexterity, he came a cropper a 
 stride beyond and went down in a shower of 
 parcels ! 
 
 By now the waiting-room was in wild con- 
 fusion. Cries of ' 'Thief! Thief!" filled the air; 
 those about the entrance were trying hard to 
 get out of the way and those at a distance were 
 striving madly to reach the scene. Station po-
 
 THE THREE GUARDSMEN 9 
 
 lioemen hurriedly joined the pursuit, but their 
 quarry was already on the threshold of freedom 
 when a new actor made his appearance in the 
 drama. Just as the thief swung toward the 
 doors something shot through space, there wa;j 
 i crashing thud, a surprised grunt and the chaso 
 was over! 
 
 A boy of seventeen unwrapped his arms from 
 the legs of the motionless form on the floor, 
 arose to his feet, dusted his clothes and looted 
 somewhat embarrassedly into the faces of the 
 throng that had already surrounded him. A 
 gray-coated officer pushed his way into the 
 center of the circle, gave a quick, inquiring 
 glance at the boy and leaned over the figure on 
 the floor. 
 
 ''He's all right. Hit his head when he went 
 down. Give a hand with him, Conlon, and we'll 
 get him to one side. You come along, sir, till 
 I get the rights of it." A brother policeman 
 aiding, the thief, now showing signs of conscious- 
 ness, was lifted to one side of the entrance. By 
 that time Joe and his companions had worked 
 their way to the front and Joe quickly told his 
 story. j 
 
 "Grabbed your pocketbook, did he?" asked 
 the first policeman. " Let's see has he got it.
 
 Sure, he has! Is this it? Hold on now, not so 
 fast! What's your name?" 
 
 Martin whispered swiftly in Joe's ear, "Myer 
 Joseph," answered Joe after a brief hesitation. 
 
 "And where do you live?" 
 
 "Philadelphia." 
 
 "Philadelphia, eh? What about making a 
 charge against this feller?" 
 
 "I don't see how I can," answered Joe. "My 
 train leaves in five minutes." 
 
 "Never mind the charge," broke in a new 
 voice. "I know this duck and I'll look after 
 him. On your feet, Clancey!" 
 
 A clean-shaven, lean-jawed man had pushed 
 his way through the crowd, and now he gripped 
 the thief's coat lapels and fairly lifted him to 
 his feet. 
 
 "Detective," whispered a man behind Martin. 
 
 "This guy's wanted," continued the newcomer. 
 "Stand up, you're all right, 'Spike.' Put up 
 your hands." The captive, finding that playing 
 possum would not do, obeyed meekly and the de- 
 tective ran quick and practised fingers over him. 
 Then a pair of handcuffs were slipped onto the 
 man's wrists and he was being whisked through 
 the throng. 
 
 "Here's your pocketbook, young man," said
 
 THE THREE GUARDSMEN 21 
 
 the policeman importantly. ''You'd not have it 
 saving this feller here." He indicated the boy 
 whose football tactics had ended the chase and 
 who, hemmed in by the crowd, was now striving 
 to get away. "Better see if the contents is 
 correct." 
 
 Joe had tried to express gratitude to the other 
 boy, examine his pocketbook and listen to the low- 
 voiced urging of Martin all at the same time, with 
 the result that he was decidedly incoherent and 
 confused. Martin was tugging at his arm and 
 telling him that they had but five minutes to get 
 the train. The policeman came to his rescue. 
 
 "Move on nowl Move on!" he commanded 
 sternly, pushing right and left. "Stop blocking 
 up this passage!" 
 
 The throng dissolved almost as quickly as it 
 had formed. Somehow, Joe and Martin, hurrying 
 back to where Bob had returned to guard the suit- 
 cases, found themselves close to the boy who had 
 made the capture. He had rescued his luggage, 
 a large kit-bag, from a bystander and, too, was 
 seeking the ticket window. 
 
 "I'm much obliged to you," said Joe. "I guess 
 he'd have got away if you hadn't stopped him." 
 
 The stranger nodded. "Yes, he was in quite 
 a hurry. I'd just come in when I saw him swing
 
 6 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 around the corner and knew that something 
 was up. I wasn't sure he was the man they 
 were after, but I thought I'd better take a 
 chance. ' ' 
 
 "I'm certainly glad you did," replied Joe em- 
 phatically. "It was mighty nice of you." 
 
 "Not at all." The boy smiled and stepped into 
 line at a window. Joe followed while Martin and 
 Bob, bags in hand, stood ready to run for the 
 gate. A moment later the stranger turned and 
 found Joe behind him. 
 
 "I can get a ticket for Lakeville here, can't I?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "Yes. Are you a Kenly fellow?" 
 
 "Not yet. I'm just entering. Are you going 
 there?" 
 
 "No, I'm Alton." The other looked slightly 
 puzzled and so Joe explained. "Alton Academy, 
 you know. That's twelve miles this side of Lake- 
 ville. We play you fellows at football and base- 
 ball and so on." 
 
 "Oh, I see. Maybe I'll see you again some time 
 then." 
 
 The purchaser in front hurried away and he 
 turned from Joe to the ticket seller. A minute 
 or so later, when the three were walking along 
 the platform, they again overtook the stranger^
 
 THE THREE GUARDSMEN 9 
 
 and Joe said smilingly: "If you're looking for a 
 parlor car, there isn't one." 
 
 "Thanks, I thought maybe it was up ahead." 
 
 "Not on this train. Better come and sit with 
 us and we'll turn a seat over." 
 
 Fortunately for that project, the car they en- 
 tered was no more than half filled, and soon, hav- 
 ing stowed their suitcases in the rack overhead, 
 they settled down, Bob and Martin taking the 
 front seat and Joe and the stranger the other, the 
 latter placing his kit-bag, which was too large for 
 the rack, between his feet. As soon as they were 
 settled the train started. 
 
 "By the way," said Joe, "my name's Myers, 
 and this is Newhall and this is Proctor." 
 
 The other acknowledged the introductions with 
 a smile. * * Very glad to know you, ' ' he said. ' ' My 
 name's Harmon." 
 
 "Joe says you're going to Kenly," observed 
 Bob, trying hard to keep pity out of his 
 voice. 
 
 "Yes, I'm just entering." There was an em- 
 barrassed silence after that while the train rum- 
 bled its way through the tunnel. Then: 
 
 "Well, everyone to his taste," murmured Mar- 
 tin. Joe frowned rebukingly and Martin grinned 
 back.
 
 10 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "Guess you chaps don't think much of Kenly," 
 said Harmon with a laugh. 
 
 "Oh, don't pay any attention to Mart," said 
 Bob. "Kenly's all right, I guess. She licked 
 us last year, 14 to 6. Beat us at hockey, 
 too." 
 
 "That's right," agreed Martin, though it evi- 
 dently hurt him. "Kenly's going to have a good 
 team this year, too, I hear." 
 
 "Is she?" Harmon didn't seem vastly inter- 
 ested. 
 
 "Guess you play football, don't you?" asked 
 Bob. "A fellow back there said you made a cork- 
 ing tackle of that thief!" 
 
 "I've played some." 
 
 Joe started. * * Did you say your name was Har- 
 mon?" he demanded almost brusquely. The other 
 nodded inquiringly. "Did you go to Schuyler 
 High last year?" pursued Joe. Harmon nodded 
 again. Joe shot a meaningful look at Bob and 
 Martin. Bob answered with a slow wink, but 
 Martin looked puzzled. Joe relapsed into thought- 
 ful silence, and conversation ceased for a minute 
 or two. When the train emerged from the tunnel, 
 however, Joe settled himself further into his cor- 
 ner, which enabled him to see his seat companion 
 without turning his head so far, and asked: "If
 
 THE THREE GUARDSMEN 11 
 
 it isn't too personal, Harmon, how did you happen 
 to decide on Kenly Hall?" 
 
 Harmon looked the least bit surprised, but he 
 answered unhesitatingly. "My brother was go- 
 ing to Kenly," he explained. "Then he decided 
 he'd quit school and join the Navy. So I just 
 thought I might as well go where he'd started for. 
 Guess that was the way it happened. I don't 
 really know much about the place. Dare say, if 
 I'd heard of your school first I'd have gone 
 there." 
 
 "Gee, I wish you had!" said Joe in heartfelt 
 tones. 
 
 Harmon viewed him bewilderedly. Then he 
 laughed with a suggestion of embarrassment. 
 "Thanks," he murmured. "Guess your school 
 isn't missing much, though." He turned his gaze 
 and busied himself with getting his ticket ready 
 for the conductor. Bob, opposite, viewed him with 
 flattering attention. He saw a boy of apparently 
 seventeen years, well if not heavily built, with 
 clean-cut features, quiet gray-blue eyes and brown 
 hair. He was not particularly good-looking, but 
 his somewhat serious and self-confident expres- 
 sion would have brought a second glance from 
 anyone. Then, too, when he smiled he looked very 
 likable. Bob's thought was, as he turned his
 
 12 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 gaze away: "Thinks well of himself, but doesn't 
 put on any airs. Doesn't do much talking, but 
 thinks a lot. Looks like he'd be mighty shifty on 
 his feet and pretty hard to stop if he once got 
 started." 
 
 When the conductor had taken their tickets and 
 gone on, Bob said: "I suppose you'll be going out 
 for the Kenly team, Harmon." 
 
 "I think I'll have to try for it, but I guess I 
 won't stand much of a show." Harmon smiled 
 deprecatingly. 
 
 Bob frowned slightly. It was all right, he re- 
 flected, to be modest, but there was no sense in 
 being a humbug ! Joe laughed. ' ' Oh, I dare say 
 you'll get by," he said, faintly ironic. After a 
 moment he added lightly : * ' If they turn you down, 
 come over to us. I'll promise you a place!" 
 
 Harmon smiled politely, and Bob leaned across 
 to him. "Better take him up, Harmon," he said. 
 "Joe's our captain, you know." 
 
 Harmon looked with slightly more interest at 
 Joe. "Really?" he asked. "I'll have to remem- 
 ber your offer then." But the joking tone in 
 his voice indicated that he wasn't taking the sug- 
 gestion very seriously. While his head was 
 turned, Bob surreptitiously reversed the leather 
 tag that hung from the handle of the kit-bag at
 
 13 
 
 his feet. Behind the little celluloid window the 
 named stared out distinctly: 
 
 Gordon Edward Harmon. 
 
 1 'Yes, we're both guards," Joe was saying when 
 Bob sank back in his seat again. "In fact, all 
 three of us are, for that's Proctor's position, too." 
 
 "Oh, I'm only a sub," disclaimed Martin, "one 
 of the 'also-rans.' " 
 
 " 'The Three Guardsmen,' >J laughed Harmon. 
 "I guess I read about you fellows once." 
 
 "Wasn't there a fourth one?" asked Bob. "I 
 never could see why that fellow Dumas called the 
 story 'The Three Guardsmen.' " 
 
 "That's right," said Martin. "D'Artagnan 
 made the fourth." 
 
 "Maybe D'Artagnan was a back," suggested 
 Joe, chuckling. 
 
 "Guess he was quarter-back," said Martin, 
 "for he usually ran the game!" 
 
 Bob shifted his feet and stretched. "Guess I'll 
 walk through and see if any of the fellows are 
 aboard," he said. "Want to come along, Joe!" 
 
 "Sure." Joe arose with alacrity and joined 
 Bob in the aisle, and they made their way for- 
 ward. Martin, left alone with the new acquain- 
 tance, gazed wistfully after his friends and then, 
 with a sigh, put his feet where Bob had sat and
 
 14 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 prepared to make polite conversation. Martin 
 Proctor was seventeen, rather thick-set and had a 
 round face from which a pair of brown eyes 
 viewed the world with quizzical good humor. Just 
 now the good humor was slightly obscured, for 
 he wasn't keen on entertaining this strange youth 
 who preferred Kenly Hall to Alton Academy. 
 However, conversation progressed well enough, 
 once started, and presently Martin forgot his 
 hostility. 
 
 Meanwhile Joe and Bob had come to anchor in 
 a seat in the smoking car ahead. ''It's he, all 
 right," announced Bob triumphantly. 
 
 Joe nodded. "Yes, I guess it is." 
 
 "I don't guess; I know! Wasn't Harmon's 
 name Gordon Harmon ? ' ' 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Well, that's the name on his bag. I looked 
 when he was talking to you. Gordon Edward Har- 
 mon's his name!" 
 
 Joe shrugged. "I wonder how they got him, 
 Bob," he said. 
 
 "You heard his yarn, didn't you?" replied Bob, 
 chuckling. 
 
 "Yes, and I believed it not! I'd just like to 
 know how Kenly gets all the good players every 
 year. They pretend they don't go after them, but
 
 THE THREE GUARDSMEN 15 
 
 it's mighty funny ! There 's a heap more than luck 
 in it! Here we are needing a good full-back like 
 Harmon the worst way, and he has to select Kenly. 
 It makes you sick!" 
 
 " Reckon he's as good as the papers made him 
 out?" 
 
 "Of course he is! Great Scott, you can't get 
 away from his record, Bob ! Why, last year every 
 one of the New York papers that I saw made him 
 first-choice full-back on the All-Scholastic Team. 
 The man was a wonder, considering his age. 
 Funny thing is that he doesn't look it. I mean he 
 doesn't look as heavy as they said he was. He 
 does look pretty good, though." 
 
 "Y-yes, but I'd never take him for a plunger. 
 .Doesn't seem to be the right build. Looks more 
 like a fellow who'd be fast and shifty outside 
 tackles." 
 
 "Yes," Joe agreed, "but you can't always tell 
 by appearances. Anyway, I wish to goodness we 
 were getting him instead of Kenly!" 
 
 Bob nodded and there ensued a long silence dur- 
 ing which Joe looked frowningly from the window 
 and Bob gazed fixedly at his hands. It was Bob 
 who spoke first. "Say, Joe," he asked slowly, 
 "you don't suppose we could persuade him to 
 come to Alton instead, do you?"
 
 16 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 Joe sniffed. "He looks like a fellow you could 
 persuade, doesn't he?" he asked sarcastically. 
 " Besides, what are you going to offer him! And 
 if we did make him an offer we'd get in wrong 
 with faculty. The Athletic Committee wouldn't 
 back us up, either." 
 
 "Reckon Kenly's making it easy for him?" 
 asked Bob doubtfully. 
 
 "I don't know. Looks like it, doesn't it? I 
 know they pretend to have clean hands and all 
 that, and they surely do enough blowing, but it's 
 mighty funny they're always getting star players 
 from the high schools and smaller prep schools. 
 Look at last year. If they hadn't had Greene and 
 Powers they'd never have licked us; and Greene 
 had just entered from that school up in Rhode 
 Island and Powers was fresh from Stamford 
 High. Oh, well, there's no use grouching. Let's 
 go back." 
 
 "Wait a moment." Bob still stared at his 
 hands and spoke thoughtfully. ' * Seems to me this 
 chap's too good to lose, Joe, without making an 
 effort." 
 
 "Sure he is," growled the captain. "What's 
 on your mind?" 
 
 Bob looked around guardedly. "I'll tell you," 
 he said.
 
 CHAPTER n 
 
 KIDNAPPED ! 
 
 "WELL, our station's next," said Bob some forty 
 minutes later. "Better change your mind, Har- 
 mon, and get off with us." 
 
 Harmon answered his laugh and shook his head. 
 "I'd like to, but I'm booked up the line. Is Lake- 
 ville the next stop?" 
 
 "Second after Alton," answered Joe as he 
 lifted the suitcases from the rack and handed them 
 to Bob. "Look us up when you come over with 
 the team some time. You'll find Newhall and me 
 in Lykes and Proctor in Haylow." There was a 
 warning blast from the locomotive and the train 
 came slowly to a stop. The three Altonians shook 
 hands with Harmon, taking, as it seemed, much 
 time in the ceremony. Outside, on the station 
 platform, a score or more of boys were hurrying 
 toward the carriage stand. Bob had encumbered 
 himself with Joe's bag and his own and it was he 
 who led the way to the door at last, Martin fol- 
 lowing with his suitcase and Joe still making his 
 farewell to Harmon. Then the cry of "All 
 
 17.
 
 18 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 aboard!" came and Joe gave Harmon's hand a 
 final clasp, picked up the kit-bag and fled down the 
 aisle. 
 
 For a brief instant Harmon thought his sight 
 had tricked him, but a swift glance showed that 
 his bag was missing and in another instant he was 
 on his feet and calling to Joe. "Hold on there! 
 that's my bag you've got!" he shouted. But Joe 
 evidently didn't hear, for he was through the door 
 and down the steps before Harmon started after 
 him. When Harmon reached the car platform Joe 
 and his two companions were fifty feet distant, 
 seeking a conveyance. The train was still mo- 
 tionless, although, further back, a trainman was 
 holding his hand aloft. There was but one thing 
 to do and Harmon did it. In an instant he was 
 pushing his way through the luggage-laden throng 
 about the carriages. 
 
 "You've got my bag, Myers," he announced 
 breathlessly as he laid hands on it. 
 
 Joe looked around in surprise, still holding tight 
 to the bag. "What did you say?" he asked 
 blankly. 
 
 Harmon tugged desperately. "My bag! Let 
 go, will you? I'll lose my train!" 
 
 Joe looked at the bag. "Well, what do you 
 know?" he gasped. "By Jove, I am sorry, Har-
 
 KIDNAPPED ! 19 
 
 mon ! I thought it was mine ! Who's got my bag? 
 Here!" He thrust the bag at Harmon so ener- 
 getically that the latter failed to grasp it. ''Bet- 
 ter hurry, old man! Your train's going!" 
 
 "Thanks!" Harmon turned and started back. 
 He would doubtlessly have swung himself to the 
 platform of the rear car had it not been for Bob's 
 awkwardness. Bob was terribly sorry and apolo- 
 getic about it afterwards! Just as Harmon was 
 free of the group, a clear path across the station 
 platform before him, Bob stepped directly in front 
 of him ! Of course you know what happened then. 
 Harmon dodged to the right and at the same in- 
 stant Bob stepped to the left, which didn't better 
 the situation the least bit. Bob looked most em- 
 barrassed, and you could see that he felt just like 
 kicking himself. In fact, he assured them all 
 afterwards that he felt that way. But meanwhile 
 he made the mistake of stepping back to the right 
 just as Harmon made a final despairing effort to 
 get past him on that side, and again they collided! 
 
 Harmon set his bag down then, smiled rather 
 a sickly smile and watched the train become 
 smaller and smaller in the distance. Bob fairly 
 revelled in self-reproach and abjected himself to 
 such an extent that a heart of stone would have 
 been moved to forgiveness. And as Harmon's
 
 20 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 heart wasn't made of any such material he gave 
 his attention to assuring Bob that it didn't really 
 matter. Joe and Martin were most regretful, and 
 Joe tried to take all the blame. But Bob wouldn't 
 allow that. 
 
 "No, if I hadn't got in the way, like a blamed 
 idiot, he'd have got it all right," he insisted. 
 "You see, I thought he was coming over here and 
 so I stepped over there like this and he came 
 the other way and I tried to side-step him and " 
 
 "It doesn't matter a bit," Harmon assured 
 them, smiling quite cheerfully now. "There'll be 
 another train pretty soon." 
 
 "That's so!" Evidently the idea hadn't oc- 
 curred to Bob before and he welcomed it with 
 enthusiasm. "Sure, there's a train about six 
 o'clock, fellows!" 
 
 "Well, that's nearly two hours," said Joe. 
 "Let's put our bags inside and find some seats. 
 No use standing up all that time." 
 
 "Oh, but you chaps needn't wait around," de- 
 clared Harmon. "I wouldn't think of having you 
 "do that!" 
 
 The three looked at each other inquiringly. 
 Then: "Can't let you wait around here all alone," 
 said Joe decidedly; "not after making you lose 
 your train like that. Bob, you and Martin go on
 
 KIDNAPPED! 21 
 
 up and take my bag with you, and I '11 stay here. ' ' 
 
 ''Why not all go up?" asked Martin. "Har- 
 mon's got nearly two hours to wait. He might 
 as well come along and be comfortable." 
 
 "That's the ticket!" exclaimed Bob. "Leave 
 your bag here and ride up to school with us, Har- 
 mon. We '11 show you around a bit and then we '11 
 go up to my room or Joe 's and rest until about a 
 quarter of an hour before your train goes. And 
 I'll ride back with you!" 
 
 Harmon hesitated. "That's very nice of you," 
 he said warmly, "but I wouldn't want to miss 
 another one. Maybe I'd better just sit in the 
 station and " 
 
 "You'd die of the heat down here in this hole," 
 said Joe. "Come on! We'll find out when the 
 train is due, leave your bag with the agent and 
 beat it." 
 
 Harmon allowed himself to be persuaded. After 
 all, it was decidedly warm there at the station, 
 and an hour and fifty-one minutes which was 
 what the agent made it would be a long time to 
 wait. And Joe insisted on waiting with him, too, 
 and that was the strongest argument presented, 
 for Joe and his friends had treated him mighty 
 nicely and Harmon felt that it would be a pretty 
 low piece of business to make any of them suffer.
 
 22 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 So off they all went presently in one of the tumble- 
 down, creaky carriages that still competed with 
 the few taxi-cabs at Alton, and Harmon proved 
 himself a thoroughly good sport by appearing to 
 forget the regrettable incident and displaying 
 much interest in the town and, finally, the school. 
 
 The others pointed out all points of interest on 
 the way : the Congregational Church that had the 
 tallest steeple in New England none of them 
 could remember the exact figures, however the 
 Town Hall and Library, the rival motion picture 
 theaters, the Common with the statue of Nathan 
 Hale in the center at least Bob and Martin 
 thought it was Nathan Hale and Joe was stoutly 
 of the opinion that it was Lafayette the ornate 
 residence of Alton's richest and most influential 
 citizen, a brownstone monstrosity almost entirely 
 surrounded by conservatories from which a very 
 few sun-baked ferns and palms peered forth, and 
 so on to the school entrance on Academy Street. 
 
 "On the left," proclaimed Bob from the front 
 seat, forming a megaphone of his hands, "the 
 modest dwelling is the Principal's residence. Be- 
 hind it you can see it now is Haylow Hall. Next 
 on the right you see Lykes, especially interesting 
 as the home of Mr. Robert Newhall, one of Alton's 
 most prominent undergraduates. In the center of
 
 KIDNAPPED! 23 
 
 the row is Academy Hall. Directly back of it, if 
 you look quick, you will discern Lawrence Hall. 
 Lawrence is the most popular of all the buildings. 
 It contains the dining hall. Further to the right 
 is Upton, and then Borden. Behind Borden is 
 the Carey Gymnasium. The building by itself at 
 the further end of the Green is Memorial Hall. 
 We are now entering the school grounds. Let 
 me draw your attention to the German howitzer 
 on the left, and, on the right, one of our own 25 *s 
 Both guns saw service in the World War and were 
 presented to the school " 
 
 "Oh, dry up, Bob!" protested Joe. "Harmon 
 will think you're an idiot." 
 
 "Reckon he thinks so already," responded Bob 
 sadly, "after the way I acted at the station* 
 Jimmy, you can dump us at Lykes." 
 
 The driver of the vehicle nodded silently and 
 turned to the left in front of Academy Hall, from 
 the steps of which a group of boys shouted greet- 
 ings, boisterous and even ribald, to the occupants 
 of the carriage. Harmon found himself wishing 
 that he had been included in that jovial and noisy 
 welcome. This was his first sight of a preparatory 
 school and he liked what he saw and hoped that 
 Kenly would prove as attractive. Alton Academy 
 occupied a tract of ground on the edge of the
 
 24 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 town apparently two blocks square. From the 
 wide, well-shaded street the Green rose at a gentle 
 grade to the row of brick and limestone buildings 
 that fronted it, a smooth expanse of fine turf in- 
 tersected by gravel roads and paths and shaded 
 here and there by giant elms. There was no fence 
 nor wall and from a little distance the Green 
 seemed to run, right and left, into the flower-filled 
 yards of the houses across the side streets. There 
 was something very dignified, very lovely about 
 the place, and the visitor's heart warmed to it. He 
 wanted to ask if Kenly was like this, but incipient 
 loyalty to the school of his choice restrained him. 
 Then the carriage pulled up at a dormitory build- 
 ing and everyone piled out. There was a squabble 
 between Joe and Martin over who was to pay, 
 Martin harking back to a similar occasion last 
 spring when he had paid the bill and Joe's mem- 
 ory failing him utterly. Harmon made a motion 
 toward his pocket, but Bob edged him toward the 
 steps. 
 
 "Leave it to them," he chuckled. "Mart al- 
 ways pays in the end." 
 
 This statement was speedily proved true and 
 Joe and Bob conducted Harmon along the first 
 floor corridor to the end of the building and there 
 opened a door and ushered him into a cool, shad-
 
 KIDNAPPED! 25 
 
 owy study. Martin had gone on to Haylow to dis- 
 pose of his bag, but, before Harmon had got well 
 settled in a comfortable chair where the faint 
 afternoon breeze reached him from one of the 
 windows, he was back. 
 
 They sat there awhile and talked. Once Joe 
 and Bob absented themselves on some casual ex- 
 cuse that took them out of the room, and once 
 Martin and Joe were gone for several minutes, 
 but always one of the number was left to enter- 
 tain the visitor. Harmon liked the study and the 
 small alcove-bedroom that led from it and was 
 much interested in the pictures and trophies that 
 adorned the walls and the tops of the chiffoniers. 
 Joe explained that his roommate, Don Harris, had 
 not arrived and would probably not get there until 
 the next morning. Harris came from Ohio and 
 faculty allowed those who lived at a distance a 
 day's grace. 
 
 "I suppose you have to be at Kenly tonight, 
 don't you, Harmon?" he asked. 
 
 "I believe so. I understand that school begins 
 in the morning. What time is it getting to be? 
 I don't want to miss that next train." 
 
 "Oh, there's an hour and twenty minutes yet," 
 said Bob. * * How 'd you like to take a look around I 
 It doesn't seem quite so warm now."
 
 26 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 The visitor was agreeable to the suggestion and 
 the quartette set forth. They went first to Law- 
 rence Hall and saw the big dining-room that ac- 
 commodated four hundred. The forty-odd tables 
 were already draped in white and set for supper, 
 and, with the afternoon sunlight slanting through 
 the high windows, the silent hall looked very 
 pleasant. They climbed the stairs to the visitors' 
 gallery and then descended other stairs and 
 looked into the big kitchen through the oval win- 
 dows in the swinging doors. Then came the ath- 
 letic field, where several of the tennis courts were 
 already in use, and Harmon heard tales of hard- 
 fought battles on gridiron and diamond and track, 
 battles that were invariably won by Alton. He 
 wanted to ask if Kenly had never scored a victory 
 there, but he refrained. 
 
 They poked their heads into Upton and Bordec. 
 Halls, the latter dormitory reserved for the fresh- 
 man students, and then crossed to the gymnasium. 
 Harmon could honestly and unaffectedly praise 
 that, for it was just about the last cry in build- 
 ings of its kind. He looked longingly at the big 
 swimming pool with its clear green water showing 
 the white tiled floor below, and Bob regretted that 
 there wasn't time for a swim. Then came Me- 
 morial Hall, where the sunlight shone through the
 
 KIDNAPPED! 27 
 
 many-hued windows and cast wonderful designs of 
 red and blue and gold and green on the marble 
 tablets across the silent nave. The library was 
 here, a book-lined, galleried hall whose arched 
 ceiling was upheld by dark oak beams. Two great 
 tables, each on a deep-crimson rug, stood at either 
 end, and many comfortable chairs surrounded 
 them. There was a stone fireplace with monstrous 
 andirons, and the school seal above it. Facing the 
 corridor door, a clock, set in the gallery railing, 
 ticked loudly in the silence. Upstairs was the 
 Auditorium on one side of the corridor, a large, 
 many-windowed hall with a platform at one end r 
 while, across from it, were four recitation rooms. 
 
 Outside again, they followed a path that took 
 them under the shade of the elms back to Academy 
 Hall. There was not much time left now, and 
 after viewing the school offices from a respectful 
 distance and peering into some of the classrooms 
 on the first and second floors, Joe decided that 
 their guest had better be thinking of getting back 
 to the station. "You mustn't go, though, without 
 seeing the view from the cupola," he added. 
 "There's plenty of time for that." 
 
 Harmon looked doubtfully at his watch, but Joe 
 was already leading the way toward a narrow 
 flight of stairs at the end of the second-floor cor-
 
 28 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 ridor and Bob had an urging grip on his shoulder. 
 
 "That's right," agreed Martin. "Everyone 
 ought to see the view from the cupola. It it's 
 one of the sights!" Perhaps he meant to 
 add further persuasion, but a fit of coughing over- 
 took him. Bob, over Harmon's head, scowled fe- 
 rociously back at him. 
 
 The stairway ended at a closed door and the 
 procession halted while Joe shot back a heavy 
 iron bolt and drew the portal outward. Then he 
 stepped politely aside and the visitor entered a 
 small apartment some eight feet square. It was 
 quite bare and lighted by four tiny panes set one 
 in each wall and just under the ceiling. Harmon's 
 gaze went questing for the stairs or ladder by 
 which he was to reach the cupola, but there was 
 nothing of that sort in sight. Indeed, there was 
 no egress save by the door through which he had 
 entered! He was on the point of calling polite 
 attention to the fact when a sound behind him 
 brought him quickly about. The sound had been 
 made by the door as it closed, and while he stared, 
 open-mouthed, a second sound reached him, and 
 this time it was made by the bolt sliding harshly 
 into place !
 
 CHAPTER HI 
 
 HELD BY THE ENEMY 
 
 A LONG moment of deep silence followed. 
 
 Harmon stared bewilderedly at the closed door. 
 Of course, it was some sort of a silly joke, but it 
 seemed so peculiarly at variance with all that 
 had gone before that he couldn't understand. 
 Wondering, he waited for the door to reopen. In- 
 stead, however, came the voice of Joe Myers, sub- 
 dued by the intervening portal but recognizable 
 and distinct. 
 
 " Harmon, can you hear me?" 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " That's good. Now listen. It's too late to 
 make that train, old man, and there isn't another 
 until about nine o'clock. That would get you to 
 Lakeville pretty late and faculty wouldn't like it, 
 I guess. What's the use of starting the term with 
 a black eye, eh? No sense in getting in wrong 
 right at the start, is there? It's a sort of a han- 
 dicap to a fellow " 
 
 "There's plenty of time to get the train if you'll 
 open that door," replied Harmon impatiently.
 
 30 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 \ 
 "What's the big idea, anyway! If it's a joke it's 
 
 a mighty poor one, Myers!" 
 
 "It isn't a joke," came the answer. "You see, 
 it's like this. We hate to see a nice, decent chap 
 like you spoiling his whole er his whole future 
 career by making a mistake, Harmon. And you 
 will make a mistake if you go to Kenly. Why, 
 you say yourself that you're not certain of mak- 
 ing the team over there! What sort of a school 
 is it, I ask you, where a fellow of your your cali- 
 ber has to get out and dig for a place on the 
 eleven? Now, here you're sure of it. All you'll 
 have to do will be just put your name down at the 
 office. Of course we don't know what arrange- 
 ment Kenly has agreed to make, and maybe we 
 can't promise all they have. You see, faculty 
 here's sort of sort of strait-laced. But I'll 
 promise you this much, anyhow, Harmon: Your 
 first quarter won't cost you a cent. We'll see to 
 that. All you need is to ' 
 
 "I haven't the slightest idea what you're talk- 
 ing about!" protested the prisoner. "Open that 
 door and let me out, or or " 
 
 "Now don't get peevish, please!" begged Joe. 
 "Honest, we're doing this for your own good, 
 Harmon. Just think a minute and you'll see it. 
 We're offering you a quarter's tuition and the
 
 HELD BY THE ENEMY 31 
 
 full-back position on the team. If Kenly can do 
 any better, why, all I've got to say is that they're 
 a lot of low-down cheats, after the way they talk 
 over there!" 
 
 "But I'm not going to Kenly to play football!" 
 exploded Harmon. * ' I don 't care if I never play ! 
 I'm going to to learn!" 
 
 "Sure! Well, that's another reason why you 
 ought to stay here. Everyone knows that Alton's 
 a better school for learning things than Kenly. 
 You don't have to take my word for that, either. 
 It's universally accepted. Why, gosh-ding-it, 
 we've got a bigger faculty and a better one than 
 Kenly ever thought of having! And we've got 
 better buildings and a better plant generally! 
 Why, say, you can learn more here in a month 
 than you could learn at Kenly in a year!" 
 
 "Are you fellows crazy?" demanded Harmon. 
 "Let me out or I'll kick the door down!" 
 
 "You can't do that," replied Joe equably. 
 "It's two inches thick. And no one will hear you, 
 no matter how much row you make, for there 
 won't be anyone on the next floor until tomorrow 
 morning. So you might just as well get rid of 
 that idea, old man. We need you right here at 
 Alton, and we mean to have you. And you'll be 
 mighty glad some day that we did this. Of course,
 
 32 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 right now you're feeling a bit peeved with us, but 
 you'll get over that when you calm down and think 
 things over. Maybe you'd like to consider awhile. 
 There's no hurry. How about it?" 
 
 There was no reply for a long moment. Then 
 Harmon said in quite a placid voice: "Will you 
 please tell me again what you're getting at? 
 Maybe I'm kind of dense, but it's all hodgepodge 
 to me!" 
 
 "Sure! Here it is in a nutshell. We need you 
 on the team " 
 
 "What team?" asked Harmon patiently. 
 
 "Why, the football team, man! We need you a 
 heap more than Kenly does, and we're willing to 
 do anything in reason to get you. Maybe you 
 won't mind telling us what Kenly has offered 
 you." 
 
 "For what?" 
 
 "Why, for well, for going there." 
 
 "Kenly hasn't offered me anything. Why 
 should she? I'm entering like anyone else." 
 
 There was a silence. Then Joe's voice came 
 again, somewhat more chilly. "All right. It's 
 your affair. If you don't want to tell, you needn't, 
 but we wouldn't ever speak of it. I suppose you 
 mean that we haven't offered enough. Well, I'll 
 have a talk with some of the fellows and see what
 
 HELD BY THE ENEMY 33 
 
 they say. You understand, Harmon, that what- 
 ever we do we do without faculty getting wise. 
 And, of course, whatever money we managed to 
 raise would come out of a few pockets, because 
 lots of fellows wouldn't approve, and lots of 'em 
 haven't got the money. For that matter, I don't 
 altogether approve myself! If it was almost any- 
 one else I'd tell him to go to thunder! Still, if 
 Kenly can do this sort of thing and get away 
 with it" 
 
 "Would you very much mind listening to me 
 a minute?" begged the boy on the other side of 
 the door. " Kenly isn't paying me money for 
 going there. She hasn't offered to and I wouldn't 
 take it in any case. Is that plain?" 
 
 "Y-yes," replied Joe, "but" 
 
 "Then why not stay here instead?" asked Bob 
 eagerly. "You're sure of making the team and it 
 won't cost you a cent for tuition the first quarter! 
 We've got everything Kenly has and a lot she 
 hasn't. Besides, it's a heap nicer playing on a 
 winning team than on a losing one, and we're 
 going to lick Kenly this fall as sure as shooting!" 
 
 "That train's gone, hasn't it?" asked Harmon 
 quietly. 
 
 "Just leaving the station," answered Joe in 
 relieved tones.
 
 34 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "Then you might as well let me out of here." 
 
 "That means you've decided to stay?" 
 
 "No, it doesn't. I haven't any idea of staying. 
 But" 
 
 "You think it over," advised Joe. "We'll be 
 back in half an hour or so. What have you got 
 against Alton, anyway?" 
 
 "Nothing against the place," answered Har- 
 mon, "but a lot against the crazy idiots in it! 
 Open the door and stop acting the fool!" 
 
 There was a low-voiced conference outside and 
 then Joe announced: "We'll let you think it over 
 awhile, old man. There's no use getting mad 
 about it. We're doing this for your sake as much 
 as for our own, and you'd ought to see that. That 
 offer still holds good, remember. Maybe I'll be 
 able to better it when I come back. I'll see " 
 
 "Look here, you you crazy loon! Do you 
 mean that you're going around telling the fellows 
 that you've got me locked up here?" 
 
 "Well, I've got to tell them something, haven't 
 I? I can't say " 
 
 * * Don 't say anything ! I don 't want your money ! 
 I wouldn't stay here if you paid me a thousand 
 dollars a week!" 
 
 "You mean that?" asked Joe dubiously. 
 
 "Of course I mean it ! Now let me out !"
 
 HELD BY THE ENEMY 35 
 
 ( 
 
 "Well, leaving money out of it altogether, Har- 
 mon, and all on the level : What 's the matter with 
 going to school here instead of over there?" 
 
 "Why should I!" asked Harmon exasperatedly. 
 "I started for Kenly and that's where I'm going. 
 You can keep me here all night and all tomorrow 
 and all" 
 
 "But that's not reasonable," protested Joe 
 mildly. "Here we're giving you a chance to " 
 
 "Seasonable! Ha! Do you call what you're 
 doing reasonable?" 
 
 "It may not look so, but it sure is! Hang it, 
 man, we 're trying to save you from making a per- 
 fectly rotten mistake ! Look here, have you paid 
 your first quarter over there?" 
 
 "I have not, but that's got nothing to do 
 with it." 
 
 "Of course it has!" returned Joe in triumph. 
 "You aren't a student there until you've regis- 
 tered and paid your first quarter bill ! All right ! 
 Just pay your money here, old man: the tuition's 
 the same! What do you say?" 
 
 "Not" 
 
 "Well, I've said all I can think of," replied Joe 
 despondently. "You think it over awhile, Har- 
 mon. There's no hurry: you can register any 
 time this evening before nine and tomorrow morn-
 
 36 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 ing before twelve. We '11 be back after a bit. Yon 
 sort of think it over, eh?" 
 
 "I don't need to think it over! I haven't the 
 least idea of doing anything so crazy! Come on 
 and open the door now, and let's have an end to 
 this this silly nonsense!" 
 
 But there was no reply. Instead, there came to 
 the captive the faint sounds of retreating foot- 
 steps. He listened suspiciously. Perhaps it was 
 only a hoax, perhaps Myers was still outside. 
 After a minute he called. 
 
 "That doesn'i; fool me!" he said. "I know 
 you're still there!" 
 
 But there was no answer, and when another 
 minute had gone by he realized that they had 
 actually gone and left him there alone!
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 HAEMON COMES TO TERMS 
 
 THE prisoner thrust his hands in his pockets and 
 made a frowning survey of his cell. From the 
 point of view of his captors it appeared an ideal 
 apartment. There was but one door and that was 
 firmly locked and plainly invulnerable. The win- 
 dows were beyond reach and, in any case, too 
 small to crawl through, and what had once been 
 an opening admitting to the belfry above had been 
 long since boarded up. He kicked tentatively at 
 the door and might just as well have kicked at 
 any other place in the four surrounding walls so 
 far as results were concerned. There was no fur- 
 niture, not even a chair. Listening, he heard 
 nothing save, once, the distant shriek of a lo- 
 comotive. 
 
 After a few minutes of hopeless inspection of 
 the place, Harmon shrugged his shoulders and 
 seated himself on the floor with his back to the 
 wall and acted on Joe Myers' advice to think it 
 over. But thinking it over didn't enlighten him 
 much. That his captors really meant business was 
 
 37
 
 38 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 evident, but why they had gone to so much trouble 
 was a mystery. None of the reasons they had 
 given seemed sufficient. That they had pro- 
 ceeded to such lengths merely to save him from 
 the direful fate of becoming a Kenly fellow was 
 too improbable. That they seriously wanted his 
 services on the football team was just as unlikely : 
 or, at least, it was unlikely that they would value 
 those services highly enough to indulge in kid- 
 napping as a means of securing them ! No, there 
 was something else, something that didn't appear. 
 Perhaps Kenly had once enticed an Alton boy 
 away and Alton was trying to get even. Or 
 perhaps 
 
 There was a sound beyond the door and Har- 
 mon stopped conjecturing and listened. A voice 
 came to him that was not Joe Myers*. 
 
 "I say, Harmon!" 
 
 "Hello!" The prisoner tried to keep his tone 
 hostile, but he wasn't altogether successful, for he 
 was becoming tired of isolation and silence. 
 
 "Joe sent me up to read something out of the 
 school catalogue to you. Can you hear all right?" 
 
 "Yes, go ahead and read," answered Harmon 
 scornfully. 
 
 And Martin Proctor, sitting on the top step out- 
 side, read. He read at some length, too. He
 
 HAEMON COMES TO TERMS 39 
 
 started in with a list of Alton Academy graduates 
 who had attained national prominence. The list 
 included a Secretary of State, two Chief Justices, 
 three United States Senators, numerous congress- 
 men and a wealth of smaller fry. When he had 
 finished Harmon inquired: "No Presidents or 
 Vice-Presidents?" 
 
 "I haven't graduated yet," replied Martin 
 cheerfully. "Now I'll read you something from 
 the report of the Board of Overseers." 
 
 "What for? What do I care about the Board 
 of Overseers?" 
 
 "Joe told me to." 
 
 When that was done Martin paused for com- 
 ment, got none and began a flattering description 
 of the Carey Gymnasium. Inside, Harmon leaned 
 against the wall and grinned. A brief summary 
 of scholarships and a statement to the effect that 
 the Academy roster of year before last repre- 
 sented thirty-nine states of the Union, two terri- 
 tories and three foreign countries completed the 
 programme. 
 
 "Joe said I was to ask you if you'd made up 
 your mind," announced Martin then. 
 
 "You tell him to give you an evening paper to 
 read the next time," replied Harmon. 
 
 "Say, why don't you?" asked Martin persua-
 
 40 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 sively. "Honest, Harmon, you'll like Alton a 
 heap better than Kenly." 
 
 "You go back and ask Myers what he's going 
 to say to the faculty when I get out of here and 
 tell my story!" 
 
 "Oh, we've got that fixed all right," chuckled 
 Martin. "Well, I've got to be getting down to 
 supper." 
 
 ' ' Hold on there ! When do I eat ? " 
 
 "I don't know. You see, if we opened the door 
 to give you anything you might try to get out ! ' ' 
 
 "You think so, do you?" asked Harmon grimly. 
 "Well, you've got more sense than I thought you 
 had! How long does supper run?" 
 
 "Until seven. It's ten minutes past six now." 
 
 "Listen, Porter " 
 
 "Proctor's my name, old chap." 
 
 "Proctor, then. Look here, now. If you'll 
 open that door and let me out I'll keep quiet about 
 this. You can tell the others that that I asked 
 to see that catalogue and that you went to hand it 
 in and I knocked you down." 
 
 "Yes, and they'd believe it, wouldn't they?" 
 asked Martin scornfully. "Think of something 
 better, please! Besides, I'm just as much inter- 
 ested in saving you from your career of crime as 
 they are, Harmon. Why, I'd never forgive my-
 
 HARMON COMES TO TERMS 41 
 
 self if I left one turn unstoned ! We 're trying to 
 save you from yourself, old chap!" 
 
 " You'd much better be thinking about saving 
 yourselves," answered Harmon, laughing. 
 
 "Did you laugh then?" called Martin eagerly. 
 
 "Sure. It struck me as funny. You'll see the 
 joke later." 
 
 "I'll send Joe up. He said if you sounded like 
 you were in a good temper " 
 
 The lessening sounds of footsteps hurrying 
 down the stairs finished the sentence and Harmon 
 chuckled. After all, it was funny, the whole thing \ 
 and he might as well laugh as frown. "When it 
 came right down to brass tacks there was no very 
 good reason why he shouldn't change his alle- 
 giance to Alton Academy. At the present moment 
 it meant just as much to him as Kenly did : more 
 in fact, for he had seen Alton and hadn't seen 
 Kenly. And he liked what he had seen. It might 
 very well be that Kenly wasn't nearly so good a 
 school, even discounting the biased boastings of 
 his captors. Of course his parents expected him 
 to go to Kenly, and so did his brother, but the 
 choice had been his and he saw no reason why he 
 hadn't a perfectly good right to choose over. It 
 wasn't too late, for he had not registered at Kenly 
 and the first quarter's tuition was still in his
 
 42 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 pocket. Possibly his brother would be slightly; 
 peeved 
 
 He paused just there in his cogitating and com- 
 prehension slowly illumined his face. He jumped 
 to his feet, thrust his hands into his pockets and 
 grinned broadly at space. " That's it!" he mur- 
 mured blissfully. ''I'll bet that's it!" He with- 
 drew his hands, snapped his fingers and turned 
 on a heel. After that he gave way to a spasm of 
 laughter that left him, with streaming eyes, cling- 
 ing weakly to the door frame. "Oh, gosh!" he 
 gurgled. "It's too good! Wait wait till they 
 find out about it!" That thought sent him off 
 again and he finally subsided on the floor, his 
 laughter dying away in chuckles and his eyes 
 fairly streaming. 
 
 Kecovering from his levity, he reviewed the 
 events of the afternoon from the time of his first 
 meeting with the "Three Guardsmen." He re- 
 called Joe Myers' surprising interest in his name 
 and the fact that he had attended Schuyler High 
 School, and how insistently the subject of football 
 had held the conversation. Everything coincided 
 with his theory. He understood now why the 
 three boys had connived at getting off the train, 
 and keeping him off, why they had gone to so much 
 trouble to show him about the school and, finally,
 
 HARMON COMES TO TERMS 3 
 
 why they had made him a prisoner. And he 
 understood why he had been offered a quarter's 
 tuition and a place on the team! It was all very 
 simple and excruciatingly funny! And he was 
 about to give way to laughter again when foot- 
 steps once more broke the silence. He pulled his 
 face straight and waited. It was Joe this time. 
 
 * ' Hello, in there ! Harmon ! ' ' 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 "I've talked to four or five of the fellows and 
 I guess it's all right. We'll manage to dig up 
 enough so it won't cost you anything for tuition 
 the first half of the year. How does that 
 sound?" 
 
 "Rotten, Myers. I don't think I'd care to go to 
 a school where they do that sort of thing." 
 
 "What? But you were going to Kenly!" sput- 
 tered Joe. 
 
 "I told you Kenly hadn't offered me money." 
 
 "Yes, but Look here, Harmon, is that 
 straight, man to man?" 
 
 "Absolutely." 
 
 "Gosh!" There was a long silence beyond the 
 'door. Then: "Well, I don't understand," said 
 Joe helplessly. "How did you happen to decide 
 on Kenly?" 
 
 "I told you once."
 
 44 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "Yes, that's so, but I thought you were just 
 just talking. Well, I don't see why you shouldn't 
 be willing to stay here then, Harmon. If you 
 aren't getting anything from them, what's the big 
 idea! You're sure of a place on the team here 
 and and if you should change your mind you 
 could have a half-term free of cost. Mind, I'd a 
 heap rather you didn't change it, because I don't 
 like that sort of thing any better than you say 
 you do. We never have paid any fellow for play- 
 ing on an Alton team and I don't want to begin 
 now. Besides, if faculty ever found out about it 
 Zowie!" 
 
 "Well, I don't want any favors, thanks. But 
 suppose I did decide to stay here, Myers " 
 
 "Sure! That's the talk!" 
 
 "Wait a minute! First thing of all, do I get 
 any supper?" 
 
 "You bet you do! Five minutes after you say 
 the word I'll have you hitched up to a swell 
 meal!" 
 
 "Well, what about a room? I'd want to be de- 
 cently fixed that way, you know. Entering late 
 like this I suppose I'd have to take the leav- 
 ings, eh?" 
 
 "Listen! We've got a swell room waiting for 
 you. The fellow that was going in with Mart
 
 45 
 
 isn't coming at all and I've asked the secretary 
 to hold it open until tomorrow morning. It's a 
 corking room; nice big study with three windows 
 and a fine view; on the front of Haylow; big al- 
 cove ; furniture nearly new and everything ! ' ' 
 
 "Sounds pretty fair," commented Harmon. 
 "Maybe I wouldn't like this fellow Proctor, 
 though: or maybe he wouldn't like me." 
 
 "Kot! Everyone likes Mart, and he's bound to 
 like you. If he doesn't I'll knock him into the 
 middle of next Sunday! You'll get on together 
 great!" 
 
 "We-ell," said Harmon unenthusiastically, 
 "maybe. And it's certain that I'm to make the 
 team?" 
 
 "You bet it is!" laughed Joe. "Just as long 
 as you can stand on your feet and play football 
 you're sure of a job!" 
 
 "Suppose I'm not as good as you seem to think 
 lam?" 
 
 "I'll risk that," chuckled Joe. 
 
 "How about the coach, though?" 
 
 "Johnny? Don't worry about him. He will be 
 just as tickled as I am to get you ! What do you 
 say, old man? It's getting pretty close to seven 
 o 'clock. ' ' 
 
 "All right, I'll agree! Open the door!"
 
 46 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 "No tricks? You're not meaning to get out and 
 then say I misunderstood you or something!" 
 
 "No tricks, Myers, I give you my word!" 
 
 The bolt shot back protestingly, the door swung 
 open and Joe's delighted countenance was re- 
 vealed. "Gee, I'm glad, Harmon!" he exclaimed. 
 "Shake!" Harmon shook. He, too, was smiling, 
 but his smile was not so guileless. 
 
 "You win, Myers," he said. "Now lead me to; 
 that supper ! ' ' 
 
 "Come on! We'll feed first and then you can: 
 register. I haven't had anything myself yet." 
 They sped down the stairs and across empty, twi- 
 lighted corridors and finally to the cool outdoors. 
 "I didn't tell any of the fellows where you were," 
 Joe explained as he guided Harmon around the 
 building toward Lawrence Hall. "I just said that 
 I was in touch with you. Here we are. It's sort 
 of late, but I guess there's plenty left. I'll take 
 you to my table tonight and tomorrow we'll see 
 if there's a place there you can have regularly." 
 
 Both boys were much too hungry to waste 
 breath on conversation, and the meal proceeded 
 almost in silence. There was plenty to eat and 
 Harmon did full justice to it. When they had 
 finished Joe took him in tow again and they went 
 back to Academy Hall and turned to the left PU
 
 HAEMON COMES TO TERMS 47 
 
 the first floor and passed through a door whose 
 ground-glass pane bore the inscription: ''Office 
 [Walk In." What happened was very simple. At 
 a desk Harmon was introduced to a tall, lean gen- 
 tleman whose name was Mr. Wharton. The sec- 
 retary shook hands politely and scrutinized the 
 applicant through a pair of strong glasses. Then 
 he gave him a card and a pen and Harmon wrote 
 on the dotted lines, going to some pains to con- 
 ceal the writing from Joe. The latter, however, 
 had no thought of looking. Then a sum of money 
 changed hands, the secretary filled out a receipt 
 for it, Harmon produced a certificate from the 
 principal of the Schuyler High School and the in- 
 terview ended with a long sigh of relief from 
 3Toe. 
 
 "That's done," he said as they reached the cor- 
 ridor again. "Now I'll take you up to your 
 room." 
 
 Haylow Hall was the last building at the left 
 of the Green. Joe pushed his way through a 
 group of boys on the stone steps and Harmon 
 followed, conscious that he was being viewed with 
 a good deal of interest by the loungers. Joe, too, 
 noticed the fact, for he chuckled, as they started 
 up the stairs: "Guess some of those fellows rec- 
 ognized you, from the way they stared!" There,
 
 48 
 
 however, Joe was wrong. The interest had been 
 only such as would have been accorded to any 
 fellow under such circumstances. For Joe was 
 unaware of the glow of triumph that shone from 
 his countenance as he guided his companion into 
 the dormitory! 
 
 In Number 16 Martin Proctor was unpacking a 
 trunk when Joe and Harmon entered. Martin 
 looked questioningly from the latter to Joe, a 
 doubtful grin on his face. 
 
 "It's all right," announced Joe gayly. "He's 
 registered, Mart! Where's Bob!" 
 
 "Over at the room, I guess. He brought the 
 bag and lit out. Say, Harmon, I'm mighty glad 
 about this. And and I hope you don't hold it 
 against us for what we did. It was sort of rough 
 stuff, but" 
 
 "Not at all," answered Harmon calmly. "It's 
 quite all right. Guess I ought to feel flattered 
 instead of sore, anyway. Myers says I'm to room 
 here with you." 
 
 "That's right. It's a pretty fair room, Har- 
 mon. Better than lots of 'em, anyway. You might 
 take your pick of the beds in there. It doesn't 
 matter to me which I have." 
 
 "Thanks." Harmon gravely inspected the cur- 
 tained alcove and decided on the left-hand bed.
 
 HARMON COMES TO TEEMS 49 
 
 Perhaps the fact that Martin's pajamas lay there 
 had something to do with the decision. Martin 
 blinked but stood the blow heroically and tried to 
 forget that the right-hand bed had a weak spring. 
 At that moment Harmon caught sight of his 
 kit-bag on the floor and pointed at it in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 1 < Isn't that mineT' he asked. "How did if 
 get here?" 
 
 "Bob brought it up from the station a few min- 
 utes ago," explained Martin. 
 
 "You fellows must have been pretty certain of 
 having your way!" marveled the owner of the 
 bag. 
 
 Joe nodded soberly. "We had to be," he said 
 grimly. "Once we had started, we had to go 
 through with it, Harmon." 
 
 "But suppose I hadn't given in! Suppose I'd! 
 gone to the principal here and told him that you 
 fellows had kidnapped me and locked me up in a 
 room?" 
 
 Joe smiled gently. "No chance of that, old 
 man. If you hadn't decided to stay with us by 
 midnight we 'd have taken you back to the station 
 and put you on the twelve-twenty train." 
 
 "Hm! And I er I wouldn't have had any- 
 thing to say!"
 
 SO LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "No." Joe shook his head. " There 'd have 
 been three of us anyway; maybe four; and we'd 
 have fixed you so you couldn't talk much." 
 
 Harmon smiled. "Still, afterwards I could 
 have talked. I could have come back, or written 
 a letter and spilled the beans." 
 
 "Yes, you could have done that, but we argued 
 that once away from here you'd get over your 
 grouch and forget it. Besides, a chap doesn't 
 want to look foolish." 
 
 "That's so," agreed Harmon, and he repeated 
 it more emphatically in the next breath. "It is 
 uncomfortable, isn't it?" The arrival of Bob 
 Newhall made a response by Joe unnecessary, al- 
 though the latter wondered just a little over Har- 
 mon's expression and the inflection of his voice. 
 Bob gave a shout of triumph and joy when he saw 
 Harmon. 
 
 "A brand from the burning!" he exclaimed. 
 "This is great! I just knew you'd see reason, 
 Harmon! Say, I'm tickled to death!" 
 
 "Well, don't upset the table," warned Martin. 
 "Let's sit down, fellows. This has been sort of 
 a strenuous day. Try the big chair, Harmon. By 
 the way, as we 're going to see a good deal of each 
 Other we might as well get used to real names. 
 [Mine's Martin, but I'm generally called Mart."
 
 HARMON COMES TO TERMS 51 
 
 "But never Smart," interpolated Bob. 
 
 Harmon smiled at the pleasantry. "And 
 I'm usually called Will and never Way," he 
 said. 
 
 Martin looked puzzled. For that matter, so did 
 the others. 
 
 "You mean folks call you Will?" asked Martin, 
 doubtfully. 
 
 < < Yes. Short for Willard. ' ' 
 
 "Oh! Willard 's your middle name. I see. 
 Well" 
 
 "Hold on!" exclaimed Bob. "I thought your 
 middle name was Edward!" 
 
 "No, my middle name is Kane. Willard is my 
 first name. ' ' Harmon explained politely and smil- 
 ingly. Joe's jaw began to drop slowly. 
 
 "What!" cried Bob. "Aren't you Gordon Har- 
 mon, the fellow who played full-back last year for 
 Schuyler High?" 
 
 Harmon shook his head gently. "Oh, no, that's 
 my brother," he said. 
 
 A deep silence fell. Bob stared at Joe and Joe 
 stared at Martin and all three stared at Harmon. 
 And the latter met their looks with an amused 
 smile. When the silence threatened to continue 
 forever Bob gave an audible gulp and blurted 
 wildly:
 
 52 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "But I saw the name on your bag! It's there 
 now! 'Gordon Edward Harmon!' " 
 
 "Oh," replied Harmon gently, "that isn't my 
 J>ag. I borrowed it from my brother."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE WRONG BOY 
 
 ANOTHER silence ensued, broken at last by a groan 
 from Bob. 
 
 "Then you're not you don't " 
 
 "There's evidently been a mistake," said Wil- 
 lard regretfully. "Still, of course it doesn't 
 much matter whether my name's Willard or Gor- 
 don, does it? As Shakespeare says, 'What's in a 
 name?' " 
 
 "I never could stand that fellow Shakespeare,'* 
 muttered Bob. Joe was still staring across the 
 table at Willard in a strange fascination. Mar- 
 tin's countenance was gradually assuming a broad 
 grin. Willard went on brightly and cheerfully. 
 
 "What I couldn't understand was why you 
 chaps were so anxious to have me here. Just at 
 first, naturally, I was a bit peevish at being locked 
 up, but when I came to think it over, like you told 
 me to, I realized that your wanting me to stay 
 was a compliment. It wasn't as if I was of some 
 consequence, as if I was a football player or an 
 athlete or something like that. You fellows just 
 
 53
 
 54 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 took a liking to me and conldn 't bear to see me go 
 anywhere else. When I realized that I didn't feel 
 as if I could disappoint you!" 
 
 "Oh, shut up," pleaded Joe miserably. 
 
 Willard evidently didn't hear him. "And then 
 promising me a position on the football team and 
 getting me a nice room and arranging to pay my 
 tuition " 
 
 "No, by gosh!" exploded Joe. "You don't 
 come that, Harmon ! That's off! You hear me?" 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked Willard ag- 
 grievedly. "Didn't you say you'd fix it so I 
 wouldn't have to pay any tuition for the first half 
 of the year!" 
 
 "No matter what I said," retorted Joe wildly. 
 "It's off!" 
 
 "But but you promised me a place on the 
 team, Myers! You can't go back on that!" 
 
 "Can't I?" asked Joe grimly. "You told me 
 you were Gordon Harmon " 
 
 "I beg your pardon," denied Willard firmly. 
 "I didn't toll you that. You you must have seen 
 that label on my bag!" 
 
 ' ' Never mind ! I thought you were Gordon Har- 
 mon. We all did. That's why we wanted you 
 here. That's why we thought Kenly had made 
 promises and why we offered to see you through
 
 THE WRONG BOY 55 
 
 the half-year. Now, by gosh, you aren't Harmon 
 at all!" 
 
 "But it wasn't my fault you made the mistake! 
 And awhile back when I said that maybe I wasn't 
 as much of a football player as you thought I was 
 you said you'd risk it. Why, my main reason for 
 agreeing to stay here was your promising me I 
 could play football!" 
 
 "That's right, Joe," said Martin. "You did 
 promise him that." 
 
 Joe turned scowlingly and found Martin's face 
 red with repressed laughter. "What's the mat- 
 ter with you?" he growled. "Hang it, it's no 
 laughing matter! If this chump thinks I'm going 
 to stick him on the team " 
 
 "Oh, take a tumble, Joe!" gurgled Martin, 
 "Can't you see Harmon's stringing you? Oh, 
 gee!" And Martin gave way to uncontrolled 
 laughter. 
 
 Joe looked at WillaiO searchingly, a somewhat 
 forced smile on his face. "That's right?" he 
 asked doubtfully. 
 
 Willard nodded, his gray-blue eyes twinkling 
 merrily. 
 
 "I hope you choke!" said Joe. But the wish 
 was followed by a deep sigh of relief. 
 
 "Doesn't it seem fair enough," laughed Wil-
 
 56 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 lard, "for me to have my joke after youVe had 
 yours?" 
 
 "Sure!" agreed Martin. "He who laughs 
 last laughs best!" 
 
 "What I want to know," declared Bob earn- 
 estly, "is where that brother of yours is! Has 
 Kenly got him?" 
 
 "No, he's entered the Navy. I told you, didn't 
 I? He has always wanted to, but dad wouldn't 
 stand for it. And a couple of months ago Gordon 
 j'ust lit out. He meant to go to Kenly, if he went 
 anywhere, and that's why I decided on Kenly. I 
 thought one of us might as well go there!" 
 
 "Well," said Joe, "I guess the laugh's on us, 
 all right! I I suppose you mean to stay here?" 
 
 "Surely! I'm entered now, you know. Be- 
 sides, I like the place very well, probably quite as 
 well as I'd have liked Kenly. And then being sure 
 of a place on the football team here " 
 
 "Have a heart!" gror.aed Joe. "Look here, 
 have you ever played football at all?" 
 
 "A little. I got into a couple of games last 
 year. ' ' 
 
 "Where did you play?" asked Joe. 
 
 "Left half." 
 
 Joe shook his head. "No good," he muttered. 
 "We've got more half-backs than we can use.
 
 'You don't come that, Harmon! That's off! You 
 hear me?"
 
 THE WRONG BOY 571 
 
 t 
 
 What we need is a corking good full-back; and a 
 couple of linemen. "He viewed Willard despondi 
 ently. "I thought you looked pretty light for a 
 full-back." 
 
 "Me, too," sighed Bob. "I couldn't quite pic- 
 ture you smashing through a line like Gordon Har- 
 mon did ! ' ' 
 
 "No, Gordon's four inches bigger all around 
 than I am, and he weighs nearly thirty pounds 
 more." 
 
 "Too bad for a fellow like that to waste him-? 
 self in the Navy," mourned Joe. "Look here, 
 Harmon, I'll tell you what I'll do. I can't prom^ 
 ise you a place, old man : you must see that your-? 
 self: but I'll see that you get every chance to 
 make good." 
 
 Willard laughed softly. "Well, I won't hold 
 you to the agreement, Myers, under the circum- 
 stances. In fact, I'd rather you didn't show me 
 any favor. I'll probably have a stab at the team, 
 but I shan't be heartbroken if I don't make it. In 
 any case, I'd rather stand on my own feet. MucH 
 obliged, just the same." 
 
 "Well, that's decent of you," muttered Joe re-; 
 lievedly. * ' But of course I want to do anything I 
 can to help. Guess we got you here under false 
 pretenses, sort of, and it's up to us to to ;" >
 
 58 LEFT HALF HABMON 
 
 "Oh, no, yon didn't," Willard assured him. "I 
 saw what was up before I consented. At first I 
 thought you were all just crazy. Then I remem- 
 bered how you had asked my name and if I'd come 
 from Schuyler High and understood. You chaps 
 pulled a neat trick down there at the station. I'll 
 say that. I didn't even suspect that you meant 
 me to lose that train." 
 
 Joe nodded joylessly. "That was Bob's idea. 
 The poor simp saw the name on your bag and fell 
 for it!" 
 
 "So did you when I told you," retorted Bob 
 resentfully. "Any fellow would have been 
 fooled!" 
 
 "Seems to me," said Martin, "it's up to us to 
 apologize to Harmon. If anyone has a right to 
 be peeved it's he." 
 
 "Guess that's right, too," replied Joe. "I'm 
 sorry, Harmon. Hope you'll er overlook the 
 way we treated you and and everything." 
 
 "Same here," said Bob. "Of course, we didn't 
 know " 
 
 "I'll apologize, too, for my part in the affair," 
 said Martin, "but I'm not going to pretend that 
 I'm sorry, for I'm not. It was a lot of fun while 
 it lasted, and even if we didn't capture a football
 
 THE WRONG BOY 59 
 
 star we did Kenly out of a mighty decent sort of 
 a chap!" 
 
 "Hear! Hear!" laughed Joe. "Mart's right. 
 Harmon, we welcome you to our midst, and we 
 trust that you will never regret your decision to 
 er to " 
 
 "Join the gang," ended Martin, jumping up. 
 "Fellows, the occasion demands a celebration!" 
 He went to his partly unpacked trunk and dug out 
 a tin cracker box which he placed triumphantly 
 on the table. "And here's the wherewithal!" A 
 generous section of a chocolate layer-cake and 1 
 many doughnuts came to light and were hailed 
 with acclaim. 
 
 "Wait a sec!" said Bob. "We've got some 
 ginger-ale. I'll fetch it. Keep 'em off the cake 
 till I get back, Mart!" 
 
 "I'll do my best," Martin assured him, "but 
 you'd better hurry. I know that gleam in Joe's 
 eye of old!" 
 
 Bob made what was probably a record trip to 
 Lykes Hall and return, arriving anxious and 
 breathless and laden with four bottles of ginger- 
 ale. Then Martin cut the cake in four equal 
 wedges, doled out the doughnuts and bade them 
 "Go to it!" For a minute or two conversation
 
 6Q LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 was taboo, and then Bob held his bottle aloft and, 
 speaking somewhat thickly, offered a toast. 
 
 "Gentlemen, I give you Mr. Willard Harmon, 
 the brand plucked from the burning, the lamb 
 saved from the slaughter, the the " 
 
 "The innocent victim of a deep-dyed plot!" 
 supplied Martin. 
 
 "The full-back who was only a half!" cried Joe. 
 
 "The gold brick!" laughed Willard. 
 
 "Charge your glasses, gentlemen! To the the 
 Brand!" And Bob drank deeply, with mellow 
 gurgles. 
 
 "The Brand!" chanted Joe and Martin, and 
 followed the example. 
 
 Afterwards they reviewed the afternoon's 
 events in the utmost good humor and with fre- 
 quent laughter. Martin's account of sitting on 
 the step outside the door and reading choice bits 
 of the school catalogue to the prisoner was espe- 
 cially amusing, and Willard revived the laughter 
 when he supplemented gravely: "It was that bit 
 about the open plumbing in the gymnasium that 
 decided me! I couldn't resist that!" 
 
 When, finally, Bob and Joe had taken them- 
 selves off and the roommates were preparing for 
 bed, Martin said: "Look here, what about your 
 trunk?"
 
 THE WRONG BOY 61 
 
 i 
 Willard shook his head ruefully. "It's at Lake- 
 
 ville by now, I suppose, and I'm likely to run short 
 of shirts before I get it. I've got only one in my 
 bag." 
 
 "You can wear mine, I guess," answered Mar- 
 tin. "Better telephone to the station the first 
 thing in the morning and get the agent to have 
 them send it back." 
 
 "Maybe the quickest way would be to go over 
 and get it myself," suggested the other. 
 
 1 ' No you don 't ! You stay right here ! We went 
 to too much trouble to get you to let you go over 
 there and forget to come back!" 
 
 "No fear," laughed Willard. "I've paid my 
 money here and I'll have to stick now! 
 Honest, Proctor, is Alton a better school than 
 Kenly?" 
 
 Martin paused in the act of disrobing and looked 
 gravely judicial. "Well, we like to say it is," he 
 answered cautiously. 
 
 "Is it bigger?" 
 
 "Not much. They usually have a few lesa 
 students." 
 
 "But the faculty here is better?" 
 
 "Hm: well, I wouldn't go so far as to claim! 
 that. Maybe it used to be, but Kenly enlarged 
 hers a couple of years ago."
 
 62 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 I see. How about athletics : football and base- 
 ball and so on? Do we usually beat Kenly?" 
 
 "Oh, I reckon it's about a stand-off. One year 
 ,we win at football and she wins at baseball. Or 
 we win at both and she gets the track champion- 
 ship and the hockey series. Call it fifty-fifty." 
 
 "Well, then, what about the the buildings and 
 location and all that?" 
 
 "No comparison as to location." 
 
 "Oh, Alton's got the best of it there, eh?" 
 
 "Alton?" said Martin contemptuously. "I 
 should say not! Why, this place is stuck right 
 down in the village, you might say. Kenly 's got 
 about thirty acres of land on the side of a hill: 
 trees and brooks and fields why, say, she's got 
 four gridirons and four diamonds and a quarter- 
 mile running track and a regular flock of tennis 
 courts!" 
 
 "Sounds good," commented Willard. "What 
 about the buildings over there?" 
 
 "They're all right, too. Guess they're as good 
 as ours, anyway. There are more of them. She's 
 got a corking gymnasium. It would make two of 
 ours ! ' ' 
 
 Willard sighed discouragedly. "But you fel- 
 lows kept telling me how much better Alton was 
 than Kenly!"
 
 THE WRONG BOY 63 
 
 Martin grinned slowly. "Sure! Why not? 
 That's patriotism. Every fellow's got to think 
 his school better than the other school!" 
 
 "Oh! Then Alton isn't really any better than 
 Kenly?" 
 
 "Of course it is!" 
 
 "In what way?" urged Willard hopefully. 
 
 "Well," began the other reflectively, holding 
 his pajama jacket together with one hand and 
 rubbing a touseled head with the other. "Well " 
 
 "Better class of fellows'?" suggested Willard. 
 
 "N-no, they're about the same. Some pretty 
 decent chaps gc to Kenly. It isn't that. It it 
 well, Alton's just better, if you see what I mean!" 
 
 "I'm afraid I don't," laughed Willard. 
 
 Martin grinned. "You will when you've been 
 here awhile, ' ' he said encouragingly. * ' The switch 
 is at the left of the door when you're ready." 
 
 "All right. I say, though, I've changed my, 
 mind about the beds. I'd rather have the other." 
 
 "Honest? Well" Martin hesitated. "You'd 
 better stick to the one you picked out, old man. 
 That one 's got curvature of the spine. The spring 
 lets you down in the middle." 
 
 "I don't mind," laughed Willard. "I only 
 chose the other because I saw it was yours." 
 
 ".Oh. that was it! Well, say, if you make a
 
 M LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 kick at the Office they'll put a new spring on for 
 you. Logan was always threatening to do it, but 
 he never did. He was in here with me last year." 
 
 Willard turned the switch and felt his way to 
 the bed. "I don't call this very bad," he declared 
 when he had experimented. " Anyway, it won't 
 keep me awake tonight!" 
 
 "That's good. I hope it won't. Good night 
 Brand!" 
 
 "Goodnight, Marti"
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 FIRST DAYS AT ALTON 
 
 WILLARD 's trunk arrived two days later, as though, 
 by its delay, protesting against the change of 
 plan, and by that time its owner was going about 
 in one of Martin's shirts. Those two days wit- 
 nessed the shaking down of Willard into the man- 
 ners and customs of Alton Academy. It wasn't 
 hard, for Martin was there to serve as a very 
 willing counselor and guide. Willard became a 
 member of the Junior Class on the strength of 
 his high school certificate, and, since that was 
 also Martin's class, the latter was able to render 
 assistance during the first difficult days. Fortu- 
 nately the two boys took to each other at once 
 and life in Number 16 Haylow promised to move 
 pleasantly. 
 
 The term began on Thursday, and on Friday the 
 football candidates gathered for the first practice. 
 Alton Academy's registration was well over four 
 hundred, as the catalogue later announced, and of 
 that number nearly one-fourth reported on the 
 gridiron as candidates for the school team. 
 
 H
 
 66 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 lard, viewing the throng, thought little of his 
 chances of securing a place. 
 
 Coach Cade made much the same sort of a 
 speech as coaches generally make on such occa- 
 sions, and promised a successful season in return 
 for cheerful obedience and hard work ; and looked 
 unutterably relieved when the more or less at- 
 tentive audience dispersed. Mr. Cade was a short, 
 thick-set man of twenty-seven or twenty-eight 
 years, with black hair that stood up on his head 
 much like the bristles of a blacking brush, a square 
 face that looked at least one size too large for the 
 rest of him, small features which included two 
 very piercing dark eyes, a button nose and a broad 
 mouth and, to cap the climax, a very gentle voice. 
 Not a handsome chap, Willard thought, but cer- 
 tainly a very capable looking one. Later, he 
 learned from Martin that John Cade had played 
 with Alton Academy for three years and then for 
 as many more on the Lafayette teams, making a 
 remarkable reputation, first as a school quarter- 
 back and then as a college guard. Willard found 
 it difficult to imagine Coach Cade as a quarter. 
 Probably, he concluded, in those days the coach 
 lacked the breadth and heaviness he showed now, 
 a conclusion proved to be correct when Willard 
 came across an old photograph of an Alton eleven
 
 FIRST DAYS AT ALTON 67 
 
 in the gymnasium some weeks later. In the pic- 
 ture John Cade was a short, not over-heavy and 
 very alert boy of seventeen, his dark eyes darting 
 defiance and his black hair bristling a challenge. 
 He was familiarly known among the fellows of 
 present-day Alton as Johnny, but none had ever 
 been heard to address him so! 
 
 Practice this first afternoon wasn't a serious 
 ordeal, for much time was given to verbal instruc- 
 tion, and at half-past four the squads were dis- 
 missed. Willard, walking back to the gymnasium 
 with Martin and Bob, said that it ought to be easy 
 to get a good team with such a raft of candidates 
 to choose from, and Bob snorted derisively. 
 
 " You 're wrong, Brand," he said. "If we had 
 half as many we'd get on better. It takes three 
 weeks, nearly, to find out who's good and to weed 
 out the others, and that's just so much time lost. 
 Johnny's dippy on the subject of having every 
 fellow who ever heard of football come out, and 
 it's a sad mess for the first fortnight. Of course 
 it sometimes happens that he finds a player that 
 way who mightn't show up if he wasn't urged to, 
 but, gee, I think it's piffle! Give me last year's 
 first and second teams, or what's left of 'em, and 
 a dozen chaps who have made names where they 
 come from and I'll turn out as good a team as any.
 
 68 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 Must have been a hundred fellows out there this 
 afternoon, and I'll bet you fifty of them never 
 played a game of football in their lives!" 
 
 "Sure,'* agreed Martin, "but some of them are 
 capable of playing, you poor fish, and it's just 
 those that Johnny wants to find. If they don't 
 make good this year, he's got them started for 
 next. Your plan might work all right this year, 
 Bob, but you'd run short of material next year. 
 You've got to plan ahead, old son, and that's what 
 Johnny does." 
 
 "Are there many of last season's fellows left?'* 
 asked Willard. 
 
 "Six first-string chaps," answered Bob. "Joe, 
 Stacey Ross, Jack Macon, Gil Tarver, Arn Lake 
 and myself. There is quite a bunch of good last 
 year subs and second team fellows, though. And 
 then there's Mart!" 
 
 "Yes, and Mart's going to try for something 
 besides guard position this year," remarked that 
 youth. "With you and Joe holding down each 
 side of center there's no hope for me. Last season 
 I lived in hope that Joe would get killed or that 
 you'd be fired, but nothing happened. This thing 
 of waiting around for dead men's shoes is dull 
 work ! ' ' 
 
 "What are you going after!" laughed Bob.
 
 FIRST DAYS AT ALTON 69 
 
 "I don't know," replied Martin discouragedly. 
 "How'd I do as a full-back?" 
 
 ' * Great ! Say, Mart, do something for me, will 
 you! Go and tell Johnny to let you play fuIU 
 back!" 
 
 ' 'Oh, dry up, you big ape! I could play full- 
 back as well as Steve Browne can." 
 
 " Steve hasn't a chance!" 
 
 "Who, then?" 
 
 1 'Search me! We've got to find someone. 
 Steve's a good chap, but he hasn't the weight, 
 speed, or fight for full-back. If we could buy 
 Brand's brother out of the Navy, now " 
 
 "Well, you did your best," laughed Martin. 
 "You got the right bag, but the wrong boy! Look 
 here, Brand " 
 
 "I refuse to answer to that name," said Wil- 
 lard haughtily. 
 
 "What's the matter with it? It's a perfectly 
 good name. What I was about to say when so 
 rudely interrupted " 
 
 "What I was about to say," interjected Bob, 
 ' ' is that it would be a good plan to hurry up a bit 
 and get ahead of some of this mob. If we don't 
 we'll be waiting around until supper time for a 
 shower!" 
 
 * ' Come on, then : stir your stumps, slow poke 1
 
 70 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 I was going to say, Brand, that it's your duty to 
 either fill the full-back position yourself or find 
 someone to fill it. You were admitted to Alton 
 on your representation that you were a full- 
 back" 
 
 " 'Admitted' is good!" jeered Willard. 
 
 "And you aren't," Martin proceeded, unheed- 
 ing the interruption. "Fellows are asking Joe 
 where Gordon Harmon is and Joe's having an 
 awful time explaining how the deal fell through. 
 He's told four quite different stories so far and 
 is working on a fifth! You could save Joe a lot 
 of mental worry, Brand, if you turned yourself 
 into a star full-back." 
 
 "I'm afraid I'm a bit light," laughed Willard. 
 "Maybe I could find a full-back for you, though, if 
 the reward was big enough." 
 
 "You'll receive the undying gratitude of Joe 
 and the key of the city. ' ' 
 
 "Huh, I've seen the city!" said Willard. 
 
 The "city," though, in spite of Willard 's sar- 
 casm, was really a very nice one. Not, of course, 
 that it was more than a town, and a small one at 
 that, but it was clean and well laid out, with plenty 
 of trees, lots of modestly attractive residences and 
 a sufficiency of wide-awake stores. When Willard 
 said he had seen it he was enlarging on the truth,
 
 FIRST DAYS AT ALTON 71 
 
 for it was not until the day succeeding the remark 
 that he really had a thorough look at it. Then 
 Martin took him in tow and, since there were 
 few recitations on Saturdays, they spent an hour 
 or more roaming about it. There were two dis- 
 tinct shopping centers in Alton. One lay along 
 Main Street a good half-mile from the Academy, 
 and on the side streets adjacent, and one occu- 
 pied two blocks on West Street, scarcely more 
 than a long stone-throw from the school. The 
 latter catered almost exclusively to the students, 
 and the latter found few excuses for going further 
 afield to make their purchases. Martin told Wil- 
 lard which of the nearby ice cream parlors had 
 the best soda fountain, showed him which of the 
 stationery stores was most popular, where he 
 could buy haberdashery at fair prices, where to 
 get his shoes shined if such an extravagant pro- 
 ceeding appealed to him, where the best barber 
 shop was even cautioning him against "the 
 wop at the third chair who would shave your neck 
 if you didn't watch him" and, in short, thor- 
 oughly initiated him into the mysteries of West 
 Street buying. In school parlance, the locality 
 was "Bagdad," although the shops were never 
 referred to as "bazaars." 
 "You can get tick at any of them," Martin ex-
 
 72 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 plained, "but they'll make it mighty uncomfort- 
 able for you if you don't pay up every half-year, 
 and faculty sort of frowns on running up bills. 
 It's better to pay cash if you can, Brand. Besides, 
 you can usually jew 'em down if you have the 
 money in your hand. Last spring Stacey Ross 
 bought a suit over there at Girtle 's and they 
 charged it to him at sixty dollars, and a fellow 
 called 'Poke' Little went and paid cash for one 
 just like it and got off for forty-seven-fifty. Stacey 
 had a fit and went back and read the riot act. But 
 the old geezer told him that 'time was money'!" 
 Martin chuckled. "In his case two months' time 
 was twelve dollars and a half! Stacey got even, 
 though." 
 
 "How?" asked Willard. 
 
 "Got a thin fellow named Patterson, a sopho- 
 more, to put the suit on and walk up and down 
 the block for an hour one Saturday afternoon. 
 The clothes hung all over Patterson and he looked 
 like a scarecrow, and he carried a placard around 
 his neck that said: 'This suit was bought at Gir- 
 tle's.' Old Girtle was furious and tried to get 
 Patterson to go away. Offered him ten dollars, 
 Patterson said, but it didn't sound like Girtle! 
 Anyhow, Patterson kept on walking up and down 
 and about two dozen kids went with him and a
 
 FIRST DAYS AT ALTON 73 
 
 lot of the fellows stood around and cheered and 
 we had quite a fine moment! 'Mac' had Stacey 
 on the carpet about it, but when Stacey explained 
 Mac only smiled and let him go." 
 
 "Is 'Mac' what you call the Principal?" asked 
 Willard. 
 
 "Yes, it's short for 'Doctor Maitland McPher- 
 son.' Have you met him yet? He's a good sort, 
 Mac is. There's a story that some years back 
 there was a wild westerner here from Wyoming 
 or Arkansas or some of those places and he was 
 talking one day in the corridor in Academy and 
 Mac was in one of the classrooms right near, and 
 this fellow I forget his name; Smith, maybe 
 called him 'the old Prince,' and Mac overheard 
 him and came out. 'Were you referring to me, 
 Smith!' he asked. 'Yes, sir.' 'And what was the 
 name you gave me?' 'Prince, sir; that's short 
 for Principal.' 'Ah,' said Mac. 'Most ingenious! 
 You may go on Hall Restriction one week for 
 "int." ' 'Int' is short for interest." 
 
 Football affairs got straightened out that after- 
 noon and Willard found himself in C Squad with 
 some twenty or so other candidates whose knowl- 
 edge of football ranged from fair to middling. 
 Only the simpler exercises were indulged in and 
 the hour-and-a-half period stretched out intermin-
 
 74 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 ably. The day was unseasonably warm and the 
 bored youth who had C Squad in charge was 
 unable to work up much enthusiasm. Willard 
 was heartily glad when the session was over. He 
 presumed that a certain amount of catching and 
 passing was beneficial to him, but he mildly re- 
 sented spending an hour and a half at it. Joe 
 Myers showed every indication of acceding to Wil- 
 lard 's request that he be allowed to stand on his 
 own feet, for so far Joe had paid no attention 
 to the newcomer during practice. There were 
 times this afternoon when Willard rather wished 
 that he hadn't been so independent. He would 
 not have resented it a bit had Joe yanked him out 
 of that beginner's squad and put him where he 
 could have worked with something besides his 
 hands ! By five o 'clock, when the end came, Wil- 
 lard was sick of the sight and the feel of a foot- 
 ball! 
 
 That evening, however, when he accompanied 
 Joe and Martin and Bob to the Broadway Theater, 
 the moving picture house patronized by the school, 
 Joe inquired most solicitously about Willard 's 
 progress in practice. He did not, though, seem 
 much concerned when Willard hinted that he was 
 wasting his time learning how to pass a football 
 "It is dreary work, isn't it!" said Joe cheerfully.
 
 FIEST DAYS AT ALTON 75 
 
 "Well, there won't be much more of it, Brand. 
 You'll get into formations next week. By the 
 way, you want to try for half-back, don't you? 
 Hm. That's so. Hm. Too bad you're so light. 
 Ever try playing end?" 
 
 Willard answered that he never had, whereupon 
 Joe remarked: " 'S 'at so?" in an absent way 
 and said he hoped there 'd be a good comedy at 
 the theater!
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 IN THE COACH'S BOOM 
 
 WHETHER the comedy was good or not, it at least 
 evoked much laughter, and was followed by a 
 thrilling "big picture " that worked Willard to 
 a pitch of excitement that lasted until he was out 
 on State Street again. They ran into Mr. Cade 
 in front of the theater and he fell into step with 
 them as they walked back toward the Green. He 
 and Joe and Bob talked about the show, while 
 Martin and "Willard followed behind and listened. 
 At West Street Bob proposed drinks, and they 
 crossed to The Mirror and sat about a tiny table 
 and drank colorful concoctions through paper 
 straws. The coach rather surprised Willard by 
 displaying positive enthusiasm for his tipple, 
 which, as near as Willard could determine, con- 
 tained a little of everything that could come out 
 of the glistening taps! Willard was a little bit 
 too much in awe of the coach to feel quite at ease, 
 and his contributions to the conversation were 
 few and brief. Not that the talk was very erudite, 
 however, for Bob talked a good deal of nonsense 
 
 76
 
 IN THE COACH'S BOOM 77 
 
 and Mr. Cade certainly didn't oppress them with 
 a flow of wisdom. On the contrary, he laughed at 
 Bob a good deal and said one or two funny things 
 himself, things at which Willard laughed a bit 
 constrainedly, not being certain that it was right 
 to greet anything a head football coach said with 
 levity. At Schuyler High School the coach had 
 been a most dignified and unapproachable marti- 
 net of whom everyone stood in admiring awe! 
 
 When they went out Bob leaned carelessly 
 across the counter and instructed the young lady 
 with the enormous puffs over her ears to "put 
 that down to me, please." Willard, following the 
 others out, reflected that, while trading on a cash 
 basis might be wiser, one missed many fine mo- 
 ments by not having a charge account! (This, 
 perhaps, is a good place to explain that the ex- 
 pression "fine moments" was widely current at 
 Alton that term. Like many other expressions, its 
 origin was a mystery, and, like them, its vogue 
 grew by leaps and bounds until even the freshmen 
 were having their "fine moments" and Mr. Fow- 
 ler, in English 7, prohibited its use in themes.) 
 
 Near the end of State Street, with the lights 
 on the Green gleaming through the trees ahead, 
 Mr. Cade proposed that the boys pay him a visit, 
 and Willard found himself turning in at a little
 
 78 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 white gate. The old green-shuttered Colonial 
 mansion on the corner was one of several houses 
 standing across from the Green that had at one 
 time or another, sometimes as a gift, sometimes 
 by purchase, become Academy property. This 
 particular mansion was occupied by three of the 
 married faculty members and, in turn, by the 
 football and baseball coaches. Mr. Cade's apart- 
 ment was on the lower floor, at the right, two 
 huge, high-ceilinged rooms separated by what had 
 once been a pantry but was now a dressing and 
 bathroom. The furnishings were comfortable 
 but plain, and in the front room a generous grate 
 eked out the efforts of a discouraged furnace. To- 
 night, however, the sight of the fireplace brought 
 no pleasurable thrill. Instead, it was the four 
 big, wide-open windows that attracted the vis- 
 itors. Those in front opened on a narrow veranda 
 set with tall white pillars, those on the side shed 
 the light of the room onto a maze of shrubbery 
 and trees beyond which the illumined windows of 
 the dormitories twinkled. There was a big table 
 in the center of the living-room littered with books 
 and writing materials, smoking paraphernalia, 
 gloves, a riding crop, a camera, a blue sweater 
 and many other things, a fine and interesting 
 hodgepodge that Willard, pausing beside it,
 
 IN THE COACH'S ROOM 79 
 
 viewed curiously. The object that engaged his 
 closest attention, though, was a board about thirty 
 inches square. It was covered with green felt on 
 which at intervals of an inch white lines crossed. 
 On the margins were figures: "5," "10," "15," 
 and so on up to " 50. ' ' Stuck at random into the 
 board were queer little colored thumb-tacks, 
 twenty-two in all. Half of them were gray and 
 half of them were red, and each held letters: 
 "L. H.," "R. G.," "L. E.," and so on. Willard 
 was still studying the board, its purpose slowly 
 dawning on him, when Mr. Cade spoke. 
 
 "Looking at my 'parlor gridiron,' Harmon?" 
 he asked. "Nice little plaything, isn't it?" He 
 came to Willard 's side and lifted the board from 
 the table. "I made it myself, and I'm sort of 
 proud of it, for I'm all thumbs when it comes to 
 doing anything with my hands. Each of the inch 
 lines represents five yards, do you see? And I use 
 these thumb-tacks for the players. It's rather a 
 help when it comes to studying out a play; al- 
 though I acknowledge that I can get on faster with 
 the back of an envelope and a pencil stub!" 
 
 "I think it's awfully clever," said Willard ad- 
 miringly. "It's just half a field, though, isn't it, 
 wr?" 
 
 "That's all; from the goal-line to the fifty-yard-
 
 80 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 line. That's all that's needed, you see. Want to 
 play with it?" The coach laughed and wheeled 
 a deep-seated rep-covered armchair to the table. 
 "Sit down and be comfortable," he added. Wil- 
 lard subsided embarrassedly into the chair, still 
 holding the miniature gridiron. Joe and Bob were 
 seated by one of the side windows what breeze 
 there was came from the west this evening and 
 Martin and the coach shared an old-fashioned sofa 
 nearby. Willard, listening to the talk, began to 
 set the thumb-tacks in place along the thirty-yard- 
 line. Presently he had become so interested in 
 arranging a forward-pass defense for the gray 
 tacks that he had forgotten all about the others. 
 He wasn't quite certain that the Gray's ends 
 should play all the way up into the line, and he 
 set them back half the distance to the next white 
 mark. Then he concluded that the pass would be 
 made by that suspicious-looking red tack labeled 
 "L. H." and that it would go to one of the red 
 ends. Consequently, he advanced the gray ends 
 up to the line once more, but a trifle further out, 
 so that they might cut in quickly and spoil the 
 throw. After that he pulled the Gray's quarter- 
 back in another yard or two, chancing that the 
 ball would not go more than fifteen yards. Then 
 there was nothing to do but wait for the play,
 
 IN THE COACH'S ROOM 81 
 
 and, since it didn't materialize, he set the board 
 back on the table and gave his attention again 
 to the others. 
 
 "Two years ago," Mr. Cade was saying, 
 ' ' there were five of us in here for almost a week : 
 Levington and Sproule and Jack Tanner Who 
 was the chap helped coach the tackles that year, 
 Myers? Do you remember? Tall fellow who 
 wore spectacles and " 
 1 'Clarke, sir? No, I know! Salters!" 
 " That's right! Salters! He was a good hand 
 and I'd like to get him back again this fall. Well, 
 there were five of us, I remember, and we were 
 bunked all over the place ; three of us in the bed- 
 room and two of us in here. We had rather a 
 good time, but no one got much sleep. I remem- 
 ber the night before the Kenly game we sat up 
 until nearly three o'clock. Our left tackle, Gads- 
 den, had sprained his ankle that day; someone 
 pushed him coming out of Academy; and we had 
 to make over the whole plan of battle. Gadsden, 
 you'll remember, was our long punter and we'd 
 mapped out a kicking game. To make things 
 worse, it began to rain and sleet that evening, 
 and we'd looked for a dry field. We certainly 
 had our hands full that night. It was Levington 
 who suggested pulling the guards out and using
 
 82 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 them on end runs, and we won on those plays. 
 You see our backfield was pretty light and the 
 wet field slowed them up. You played awhile in 
 that game, didn't you, Myers, toward the end!" 
 
 "Yes, for three or four minutes. I was in 
 when we made our second score. We dumped 
 their end and Morgan shot around for four yards 
 and the touchdown." 
 
 " That's right. It looked like a tie game until 
 near the end. Kenly had a man who could boot a 
 wet ball forty yards every time and we had no 
 one to meet him with. But we certainly wore her 
 ends to a frazzle. She used three pairs before 
 she got through! It was nothing but fight and 
 determination that won that game, fellows. On 
 paper we figured about seventy per cent to their 
 one hundred before the start. They had us licked, 
 but they didn't know it, and we never told 
 them!" 
 
 1 1 What about this year, sir?" asked Martin. 
 
 ''How many snowstorms are we going to have 
 in January?" asked the coach laughingly. "It's 
 rather too early for predictions, Proctor. But 
 for all I can see now we've got a better show 
 than we had two years ago, and we licked her 
 then. We're certainly going to be in better shape 
 than last year."
 
 IN THE COACH'S ROOM 83 
 
 " We've got to find a full-back," said Joe du- 
 biously. 
 
 "Yes, and a new tackle and maybe an end. But 
 we'll do it. There's a lot of good material to 
 pick from this year." 
 
 "I suppose you've heard, sir, that Kenly's got 
 that fellow Timmons who played left end on Mill- 
 wood High last season," said Bob. 
 
 "No, is that so? Is he good?" 
 
 "They say so. Funny thing we don't seem to 
 catch any of the stars, Mr. Cade." 
 
 "We don't want them, Newhall. Stars are un- 
 certain things. They have a mean way of going 
 out unexpectedly! I'd rather have a bunch of 
 satellites to work with and turn out my own 
 stars!" 
 
 The others laughed, but Bob shook his head, 
 not altogether convinced. "That's all right, sir, 
 but you'd think we'd get more good players here. 
 It isn't as if Alton was a small school or a punk 
 one. Of course those fellows with big reputa- 
 tions don't always pan out when you get them, 
 but, just the same, I'd like to see some of them 
 head this way now and then!" 
 
 "I dare say it wouldn't hurt," agreed the 
 coach. "But, fellows, the longer I stick at this 
 coaching game the more convinced I am that
 
 84 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 when it comes to the last analysis it isn't plays 
 or players that win games; it's spirit! Take 
 eleven corking men, each one a master of his po- 
 sition, and get them so that they play together 
 like a well-oiled machine, and then run them up 
 against a team of ordinary players without much 
 team-work or anything else except a great, big, 
 overwhelming desire to win, and what happens 
 three times out of four? Why, that inferior team 
 wins! She may make mistakes, she may play 
 ragged ball, but grim determination and fight and 
 spirit get her there! You see it happen all the 
 time. I can tell you of twenty games where the 
 best team was beaten just because, while she 
 wanted to win, she didn't want to win hard 
 enough ! ' ' 
 
 ''Yes, sir, I guess that's so," agreed Joe. 
 "And I guess it's a lot easier to teach a team to 
 play good football than it is to put the right spirit 
 in them." 
 
 "Of course it is! You've got to begin with the 
 School, Myers, and work down to the team. If the 
 School hasn't got the right spirit, the team won't 
 have it. And that's why I try to get as many 
 fellows out for football at the beginning of the 
 year as I can. Or, at least, it's one reason. In- 
 terest a fellow, no matter how little, in the team,
 
 IN THE COACH'S KOOM 85 
 
 and he'll believe in it and work for it. Even if 
 a fellow comes out only to be dropped three or 
 four days later, he's 'smelled leather' and he 
 never quite forgets it. He thinks well of his more 
 successful companion who has made good, even 
 though he may be secretly envious of him, and the 
 team and its success means a lot more to him than 
 it does to the chap who has never had anything 
 to do with it. The team that feels the School 
 behind it works hard and loyally and, when the 
 big test comes, fights like the very dickens ! And 
 it's fight that wins football games, just as it's 
 fight that wins battles. And that's that!" 
 
 Mr. Cade ended with a little laugh that seemed 
 to apologize for his vehemence, but none of his 
 listeners joined in it. After a moment Martin 
 said: "There's a little school they call Upton 
 Academy near my home, Mr. Cade. It has only 
 about a hundred and twenty students, I suppose, 
 and more than half of 'em are girls. But they 
 meet teams from bigger schools and beat them 
 right along. One of the teachers coaches them 
 and the girls go with them and cheer like mad 
 and they wipe up the whole county!" 
 
 "I guess it's spirit in that case," said the 
 coach. "And maybe the girls have a lot to do 
 with it. Ever notice what a deal of fighting spirit
 
 86 
 
 girls show? First thing we know or our chil- 
 dren know the girls will be playing real foot- 
 ball. And when they do, fellows, look out!" Mr. 
 Cade chuckled at his direful prediction. 
 
 A little later the boys arose to go and Mr. 
 Cade, moving to the table, took up the felt-covered 
 board and looked at it curiously. "Defense 
 for forward-pass, eh, Harmon?" he said. "Which 
 of these red fellows is making the toss?" 
 
 "I don't know, sir," answered Willard. "I 
 was playing the Gray's end of it. But I figured 
 that left half-back was throwing to an end." 
 
 The others gathered around to see and Mr. 
 Cade looked speculatively at Willard for a mo- 
 ment before he smiled and laid the board back 
 on the table. "I'd pull my ends in further in that 
 case," he said, "and bring them nearer the play, 
 What position are you after?" 
 
 "Half-back, sir." 
 
 "I see. Well, it's an interesting job, half- 
 back's. Lots of chance for initiative there. Quick 
 thinking, too. Well, good night, fellows. Drop 
 in again some evening. I'm generally home."
 
 CHAPTER VHI 
 
 THE BOY IN THE GEEEN SWEATER 
 
 THE following Wednesday, Willard received pro- 
 motion of a sort. By that time the number of 
 candidates at practice had noticeably lessened and 
 the four squads had become three. Last year's 
 first team survivors and a goodly number of the 
 second team players formed Squad A, while some 
 twenty youths who showed particular promise 
 made up Squad B. Into the latter company Wil- 
 lard went. A third squad whose personnel 
 changed from day to day as new candidates ap- 
 peared or old ones fell out, was known officially 
 as C, but popularly as "The Goats." 
 
 Formation drill had begun and Willard ran 
 through signals at the left half-back position, al- 
 ternating with another youth named Kruger. 
 Only the simplest formations were used and the 
 pace never exceeded a trot. Preliminary to this, 
 there was tackling practice at the dummy each 
 day, and more or less passing and starting. After 
 formation drill Willard joined nearly a dozen 
 
 87
 
 88 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 other backfield candidates and put in a half-hour 
 of punting and catching and running. Willard's 
 kicking education had been rather neglected, for 
 at high school, during the two years he had 
 played, the full-back and quarter had shared the 
 kicking duties. Here, however, it was held that 
 a back should be proficient in every department 
 of the game, and Willard showed up rather poorly 
 beside many of his rivals. 
 
 The second eleven came into existence the last 
 of that week and the first real scrimmage of the 
 season took place on Friday between it and the 
 first in preparation for the initial contest the 
 next day. Willard was glad he had not been 
 picked for the second, for he had not yet given 
 up hope of better things, and knew from experi- 
 ence how difficult it is to make one's way from 
 the second team to the first. Several fellows 
 from Squad C were selected, however, and among 
 them Kruger, which left Willard for awhile in 
 undisputed possession of the left half-back job. 
 It wasn't long, though, before a weedy, tempera- 
 mental boy named Longstreth took Kruger 's 
 place. Longstreth had been promoted from the 
 Goats and seemed to have an idea that his mis- 
 sion in life was to inject what he called "ta- 
 basco" into Squad B. One way of doing it was
 
 THE BOY IN THE GREEN SWEATER 89 
 
 to aid in the coaching, and he simply oozed 
 advice to both Coach Cade and Richards, the 
 quarter-back. The coach stood it patiently, but 
 Ned Richards ultimately turned upon him and 
 wounded his sensibilities horribly, so horribly 
 that Longstreth became a changed boy and delib- 
 erately let the squad worry along without "ta- 
 basco." But most of this was later on and sub- 
 sequent to the Alton High School game, which 
 started the season for the Academy. 
 
 Willard watched that contest from the bench: 
 or, rather, from a seat on the ground near the 
 bench, since the capacity of the bench was lim- 
 ited. It wasn't much of a game, even for a first 
 one, and there was nothing approaching excite- 
 ment in it until, near the end of the third ten- 
 minute period, High School threw a scare into 
 her opponent by scoring a touchdown when Coch- 
 ran, at right half, dropped the ball and the High 
 School left end scooted away with it for sixty-odd 
 yards and brought joy to the visitors. Acad- 
 emy's quarter-back ought to have stopped him, 
 but Tarver made a miserable tackle and the run- 
 ner wrenched himself loose and went over the 
 line without further challenge. 
 
 High School missed an easy goal and the score 
 was tied at 6 6, for the Academy had been able
 
 90 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 to put over but one touchdown against a weaker 
 but plucky enemy and Cochran had missed the 
 goal as badly as the opponent had later. The 
 Academy rooters woke up from their lethargy 
 then, and there was some cheering during the 
 remainder of the period and throughout the last 
 quarter. It was not until the latter was well 
 along, however, that Academy pulled the game 
 out of the fire. Then, working to striking dis- 
 tance by means of two forward-passes that took 
 the ball from midfield to High School's thirty- 
 yard-line, the Gray-and-Gold hammered the op- 
 posing left side until it gave way and Macon, on 
 an end-around play, landed the pigskin over the 
 goal-line. This time, Cochran having given way 
 to a substitute, Tarver tried for a goal and made 
 it, and the game ended a few minutes later with 
 the Academy on the long end of a 13 6 score. 
 
 Coach Cade used many substitutes during the 
 final quarter, and Martin Proctor was one of 
 them, and Willard was delighted to see his chum 
 put up a fine game at right guard when Bob went 
 out. At left half, the position that Willard was 
 especially interested in, Arnold Lake played to 
 the end of the third period and then gave place 
 to Mawson. Both played well and Willard was 
 more certain than before that if he was to make
 
 THE BOY IN THE GREEN SWEATER 91 
 
 the first team this year it would have to be in 
 some other capacity than that of left half! 
 
 When the game was done the Squad A players 
 who had not participated were lined up against 
 a Squad B eleven and there followed a short 
 scrimmage in which Willard played left half for 
 B and had a lot of fun. Squad A wasn't formid- 
 able and it was no great stunt to gain outside her 
 tackles, and once Willard got nicely away and 
 would have made the only score of the scrimmage 
 if an obnoxious youth named Hutchins, and bet- 
 ter known as "Hutch," hadn't pulled him down 
 on the six yards. From there, in spite of all 
 her efforts, B couldn't make much gain and the 
 fourth down found the ball a yard short of the 
 line. The scrimmage ended with a score and 
 the empty stand attested the amount of interest 
 the game provided the onlookers who had re- 
 mained after the big contest. But Willard had 
 enjoyed it and won a set of bruised fingers when 
 one of the enemy had set an ungentle foot 
 thereon, and he was quite contented the rest of 
 the evening. But he did a lot of thinking and 
 consulted Martin on the advisability of trying for 
 an end position, and showed no gratitude when 
 he was advised to fatten himself up and try for 
 center !
 
 92 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "You seem to be willing to stick on the bench 
 all season," he said aggrievedly, "but I don't see 
 any fun in that. If I " 
 
 "How do you mean, stick on the bench!" de- 
 manded Martin. "I'm not going to stick on any, 
 bench. Haven't you noticed how pale and wan 
 Bob is getting to look? He won't last much 
 longer. I think it's sleeping sickness or some- 
 thing else slow and certain. He won't acknowl- 
 edge he's sick, but I can tell! There's a wor- 
 ried look about his eyes and Gal Grainger says 
 he sleeps more than he used to." 
 
 ' ' Oh, shut up ! " said Willard, grinning. 
 
 "Fact, though! You look at Bob some time 
 when he doesn't know he's ah under observa- 
 tion and you'll see what I mean. Sleeping sick- 
 ness is very insidious, Brand, but always fatal. 
 I'm sorry for Bob, of course, but I'm not hypo- 
 critical about it!" 
 
 "Bob will be playing guard and you'll be lug- 
 ging the water pail when we meet Kenly," re- 
 torted Willard. "I'm in earnest, though. Why 
 shouldn't I try for end instead?" 
 
 "Because you're a half-back, sonny. Playing 
 end is something else again, and you'd have to 
 learn a lot of new tricks, and the season might bo 
 over before you'd learn 'em."
 
 THE BOY IN THE GREEN SWEATER 93 
 
 "Well, I'd be ready for next year," murmured 
 Willard. 
 
 "If that's all you're looking for, stay where 
 you are. They'll be using half-backs as well as 
 ends next year, unless the Rules Committee gets 
 gay again!" 
 
 "Well, of course I do want to make the team 
 this fall," acknowledged the other. 
 
 "Naturally. So do I. I wanted to last fall, 
 too, but a cruel fate willed otherwise." 
 
 "Oh, you don't care," scoffed Willard. "You 
 haven't any any ambition." 
 
 "Ambition? Get out! I'm full of ambish! 
 But I don't propose to be unhappy because I 
 can't have the whole pie. I like the fun of play- 
 ing, Brand, and I don't worry much because I 
 don't always get into the game. After all, I'm 
 doing my bit, you know. Someone's got to be 
 second-choice. Besides, think what a comfort it 
 is to Joe and Bob to know that if they have to 
 leave the game there I am ready to take their 
 places and carry on the good work! Don't you 
 suppose that thought helps 'em to weather many 
 a many a dark hour?" 
 
 "No, I don't," answered Willard disgustedly. 
 "But I guess it helps them to go on playing
 
 94 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 sometimes when they're all in! The idea of let- 
 ting you in " 
 
 " Don't say it!" warned Martin, laying a hand 
 significantly on a book. "Them's hard words! 
 Listen, Brand: are we going to the lecture or 
 aren't we not?" 
 
 "What's it all about!" 
 
 "The Cliff Dwellers of of Montana, or some 
 place." 
 
 "Arizona!" 
 
 "Maybe," replied Martin cautiously. "Any- 
 way, the fellow's good. He was here last year. 
 Let's go. I've always wished I'd been born a 
 cliff-dweller. There's something awfully fasci- 
 nating in the idea of shinning up a tree-trunk and 
 climbing through a window when you're ready 
 for bed! Think what fun there must have been 
 at a prep school in those days. When the fellow 
 who lived above you was climbing up all you had 
 to do was reach out and push the tree-trunk away. 
 Gee, you miss a lot of innocent amusement by 
 being born too late!" 
 
 Sunday dawned cloudy and dismal, with occa- 
 sional sprinkles of rain. Breakfast was a half- 
 hour later, and when that was over there was 
 nothing much to do but furbish up for church. 
 But shining one's shoes and brushing one's Sun-
 
 THE BOY IN THE GREEN SWEATEE 95 
 
 day suit doesn't consume much time, no matter 
 how thorough and deliberate one may be, and 
 after Willard was ready there still remained the 
 best of an hour. The steam heat had not yet 
 been turned on and the dormitory was chill and 
 unsympathetic. He tried to write a letter to 
 the folks at home, but only got as far as: 
 "Dear Father and Mother." Martin's usu- 
 ally placid humor was perceptibly rumpled this 
 morning, and efforts to engage him in conversa- 
 tion resulted in grunts and growls. Willard was 
 heartily glad when it came time to start off for 
 church, even though he felt uncomfortable in a 
 derby and detested carrying an umbrella. 
 
 Dinner was at one, a heavy repast topped off 
 with ice cream and cake that left the diner feel- 
 ing like an anaconda who had just swallowed a 
 goat. Willard, who had failed to get placed at 
 Joe's table and was with an unusually uninter- 
 esting group at the far end of the hall, arose from 
 the board wishing he had not accepted young 
 Stanley's offer of his ice cream. Or perhaps it 
 was the cake that was to blame. In any case, he 
 felt horribly full and sluggish, and when, at the 
 door, Bob brightly suggested a nice long tramp 
 over to Banning to see the new railway bridge 
 that was under construction he shook his head
 
 96 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 and pleaded letters to write. Banning was three 
 miles away, and Willard wasn't sure he could 
 even get back to his room before going to sleep ! 
 
 "Well, if you change your mind, come on over 
 to the room," said Bob. "We won't be starting 
 for half an hour, I guess." 
 
 Willard said he would, being quite certain that 
 his mind was incapable of any change. When he 
 reached Number 16, Martin, too, was disgustingly 
 active. "Come on, Brand," he cried. "We're 
 going over to see the new bridge at Banning. Get 
 an old pair of shoes on." 
 
 "I don't want to see any bridges," replied 
 Willard morosely. "I I saw one once." 
 
 "What if you did, you chump! You never saw 
 this one. Don't be a piker. Look, it's going to 
 clear up!" 
 
 Willard gazed through the window with lack- 
 luster eyes and shook his head feebly. "I've got 
 to write home," he murmured, subsiding into a 
 chair. 
 
 "You look more as if you were going to sleep," 
 said Martin in disgust. "All right, sonny, see 
 you later." 
 
 Martin went out, slamming the door behind 
 him and whistling gayly down the corridor. Wil- 
 lard shook his head again. He had never noticed
 
 THE BOY IN THE GREEN SWEATER 97 
 
 before how objectionably noisy Martin was ! Sev- 
 eral rooms away a graphophone was playing 
 loudly and boys were singing. Everyone, re- 
 flected Willard, seemed to be unnaturally ani- 
 mated today. He guessed they hadn't eaten two 
 plates of ice cream! After a long time, during 
 which he stared somnolently at his shoes, he 
 pulled himself out of the chair with a groan and 
 reseated himself at the table. Half an hour later 
 he signed the fourth page of his letter "Your aff* 
 son, Willard" and folded it quickly lest he yield 
 to the temptation to read it over. He knew that 
 if he did that he would never send it ! 
 
 When it was ready for mailing he walked to 
 the window and looked out. It really was clear- 
 ing! Even as he looked, the sun broke through 1 
 for a moment and shone weakly on the damp field 
 and the running track beyond. He felt a good 
 deal Better now and he wished he had gone to 
 Banning with the others. Well, he hadn't, and 
 rather than moon around in that chilly room he 
 would slip on an old suit and take a walk. Pos- 
 sibly he would meet the crowd coming back later. 
 He changed from his Sunday attire to an old 
 pair of knickerbockers, a sweater, golf stockings, 
 old shoes and a cap and set forth, proceeding first 
 to the mail box in front of Academy Hall and
 
 98 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 getting rid of his letter. Stacey Ross hailed him 
 from a third-story window of Lykes as he made 
 his way past toward the athletic field, and he 
 stopped and exchanged badinage for a moment, 
 declining Stacey 's invitations, the first of which 
 was to "Come on up," and the second to "Go to 
 the dickens!" 
 
 He knew that the river lay somewhere to the 
 west and not more than a mile distant, and he set 
 out to find it. His way led him across the athletic 
 field and over the stone wall that bounded it and 
 so into a meadow that descended gradually to a 
 winding fringe of woods a quarter of a mile 
 away. Whether the woods hid the river he didn't 
 know. It didn't seem likely, however, for he had 
 a notion that the stream was quite a considerable 
 one : in fact, it must be if the railroad was build- 
 ing a large and expensive bridge across it some 
 two miles further inland! 
 
 Before he reached the woods he had thrice been 
 ankle-deep in water, but it was only marsh water 
 and the trees, he found, hid only a narrow and 
 shallow brook. By this time the sun was really 
 out, although not very brightly, and the woods 
 and the stream, with its mossy stones and bor- 
 dering ferns, looked very pretty. He wondered 
 if there were any trout there, and pursued it for
 
 THE BOY IN THE GREEN SWEATEE 99 
 
 some little distance looking for likely holes. When 
 he had satisfied himself that no respectable trout 
 would deign to live in such a brook he made his 
 way across it by jumping from stone to stone, 
 only once missing, and went on through an alder 
 growth on the other side. When he emerged he 
 was at the foot of a second meadow interspersed 
 with outcropping ledges and clumps of white 
 birches and maples and wild cherry trees. Afar 
 at the left, near where the road presumably 
 wound, was a farm with a white dwelling and a 
 red barn and many comical haycocks that looked 
 golden in the sunlight. Ahead of him a stone 
 wall crossed the summit of the field, pricked out 
 at intervals with spindling cedars whose somber 
 foliage stood darkly against the clearing sky. The 
 September sun, freeing itself from the clouds, 
 shone warmly in Willard's face as he went on up 
 the rise. When he reached the wall he saw the 
 river below him, a broad, curving ribbon of blue. 
 But it was a good half-mile away yet, and he sat 
 himself on the wall to rest before going on. 
 
 The sun felt pleasant to him and, after he had 
 sat there a few minutes, he began to lose interest 
 in a nearer acquaintance with the river. Instead 
 of going on in that direction, he decided, he would 
 turn to the left and try to reach the road. Doubk
 
 100 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 less Bob and Martin and the others would be re- 
 turning before very long. Turning his gaze 
 southward, he became aware of the fact that he 
 was not alone. Some two hundred yards away a 
 figure was approaching, a figure which appeared 
 at first glance to be that of a man wearing a dark 
 green sweater and advancing up the slope at a 
 strangely deliberate pace. A second look, how- 
 ever, showed that the person was a boy of per- 
 haps eighteen years and that as he walked he held 
 the end of a forked stick in each hand and was 
 oblivious to all else. He was a tall and rather 
 heavy youth with extremely long legs that moved 
 with machine-like precision and regularity over 
 the grass. His slightly bent head prevented a 
 clear sight of his face, but Willard thought he 
 recognized the boy as one he had glimpsed once 
 or twice about school. Why he should be pacing 
 along here a mile from home, however, a Y- 
 shaped branch in his hand, was a mystery, and 
 Willard watched curiously as he came nearer and 
 nearer.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 M'NATT ON SCIENCE 
 
 THE boy in the green sweater, if left to his own 
 devices, would have passed Willard some fifteen 
 feet away, but curiosity got the better of the lat- 
 ter and when the other was opposite to him he 
 spoke. 
 
 1 'Hello," he said. 
 
 The fellow stopped, turned his head and viewed 
 the boy on the stone wall, quite without surprise, 
 for a long moment. Then he shifted his gaze to 
 the forked stick that he still held extended before 
 him and shook his head slowly. 
 
 "I suppose I haven't got the power," he re- 
 marked thoughtfully. 
 
 "What power?" asked Willard. 
 
 "Why, the power, or whatever you like to call 
 it, to make this thing work. Have you ever 
 tried it?" 
 
 "I don't know what you're doing," answered 
 Willard, getting down from the wall. "What's 
 the branch for?" 
 
 "Haven't you ever seen a water-finder!" Wil- 
 
 101
 
 102 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 lard shook his head, puzzled. "Well, you take 
 a piece of witch-hazel or willow some say alder 
 or ash will do and hold it like this by the top 
 branches and walk over the ground. When you 
 come to a place where there's water below, the 
 lower end there will tilt downwards. I've seen 
 it done twice." 
 
 "Oh, I've heard of that, but I never saw it 
 tried," answered Willard interestedly. "I sup- 
 posed it was just nonsense. Did you ever see it 
 succeed?" 
 
 The other nodded soberly. "Both times. Old 
 Man Hildreth, back home, did it twice one time 
 for my father, and when we dug where he told us 
 to we came to water. One time it was a regular 
 spring that we found and the other time it was 
 more like a well. I mean we had to dig pretty 
 far down before we came to the water. Old Man 
 Hildreth used witch-hazel, and that's what I've 
 got here. I had to hunt nearly an hour before 
 I found any." 
 
 "Let's see." Willard took the Y-shaped piece 
 and looked at it curiously. There was, however, 
 nothing about its appearance to indicate the 
 power attributed to it by the boy in the green 
 sweater. Willard shrugged. "I guess you've 
 got to go where you know there's water," he said.
 
 McNATT ON SCIENCE 103 
 
 "It doesn't look to me as if there 'd be much water 
 on top of this hill." 
 
 "You mostly find springs on hillsides," replied 
 the other mildly, "and that's why I've been look- 
 ing around here. Maybe I'm too high up now, 
 though. ' ' 
 
 Willard seized the branches as he had seen the 
 other hold them and experimentally walked a few 
 steps forward. Nothing happened. For that 
 matter, he hadn't expected anything would 
 happen. 
 
 "You must hold them tight," advised the other, 
 "so you'll feel the influence." 
 
 Willard gripped harder and circled about the 
 green sweater. Once, possibly because his mus- 
 cles were so tense, he thought he felt a tremor, 
 but, when he turned and went back over the spot, 
 the phenomenon was not repeated. "Look here," 
 he asked, "what do you want to find water for, 
 anyway? There's a whole river just full of it 
 down there." 
 
 "I wanted to see if I could do it," answered 
 the other. 
 
 "Oh!" Willard looked at the witch-hazel wand 
 in his hands and down the gently sloping meadow. 
 "Let's go down there and try it," he suggested 
 finally.
 
 104 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "Very well." Side by side, Willard still hold- 
 ing the water-finder, the two went down the hill. 
 Willard 's countenance, although he didn't know 
 it, wore an expression of concentration and ex- 
 pectancy. At the foot of the hill his companion 
 seated himself on a rock and Willard began a 
 systematic exploration of the surrounding ter- 
 ritory. When ten minutes or so had passed it 
 dawned on him that he was extremely warm and 
 that, while there was bound to be water under- 
 ground, since the river was not far distant and 
 very little lower, the forked stick had absolutely 
 failed to register even a tremor of interest! He 
 joined the youth in the green sweater and handed 
 the stick to him in disgust. 
 
 "That's no good," he said. "Why, I could 
 find water two feet from here if I had a shovel! 
 That's just bunk!" 
 
 "I suppose you and I haven't the right powers 
 of divination," replied the other composedly. 
 "I'll try again some day with a piece of willow." 
 
 Willard said "Humph!" as he seated himself 
 on the rock, and a minute's silence ensued. Then: 
 "I've seen you at school, haven't I?" Willard 
 asked. 
 
 "I presume so. My name is McNatt, and I'm 
 in Upton. What is your class!"
 
 McNATT ON SCIENCE 105 
 
 "Junior," replied Willard. "This is my first 
 year. I suppose you are in the senior class." 
 
 McNatt nodded. "I've been here four years. 
 This is my fifth. I was sick my sophomore year 
 and had to go home twice. Once I was away two 
 months and another time I was gone five weeks. 
 That put me behind and I had to take the year 
 over. I guess I could have made it up, but the 
 doctor wouldn't allow it. I don't mind at all, 
 though. I like it here. The only thing is that 
 the fellows I came along with have gone and I 
 don't know many now. But then I never was 
 much for making acquaintances." 
 
 Willard viewed him curiously. McNatt was 
 perhaps nearly nineteen, he thought. His head 
 was large and his features prominent: a very 
 beak-like nose extended well over a wide mouth, 
 his rather pale eyes, which might have been either 
 green or blue for all Willard could determine, 
 were deepset under heavy brows and his chin jut- 
 ted out almost aggressively. But in spite of his 
 features McNatt did not impress Willard as be- 
 ing a forceful youth, nor did his expression, voice 
 or manners suggest it. He had a pleasant, deep 
 voice and spoke slowly, almost hesitantly, and, 
 while he didn't smile frequently, his countenance 
 Bespoke good humor. He had very dark-browii
 
 1CF6 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 hair, and there was a good deal of it, and it was 
 perceptibly wavy under the rim of his straw hat. 
 The straw hat, like the rest of his attire, had seen 
 better days. In fact, McNatt's trousers, of blue 
 serge that had changed to plum-color on the 
 knees, would not have greatly interested an old 
 clothes man ! The garment that clothed the upper 
 part of his body was equally disreputable, a dark- 
 green coat-sweater with many darns and one 
 pocket that was trying hard to get away. The 
 shoes alone appeared to be of recent origin, but 
 as they were caked with mud along the soles the 
 fact would have escaped casual observation. 
 
 "What made you think of this stunt?" asked 
 Willard, nodding at the witch-hazel stick. 
 
 McNatt's countenance expressed faint surprise. 
 "Why, I've always been very interested in scien- 
 tific matters," he replied gravely. 
 
 "Oh," said Willard, "do you call that science?" 
 
 "I'm not sure," answered the other slowly. 
 "The diving-rod, as it is sometimes called, has 
 been in use a great many years both for the dis; 
 <jovery of water and metals. Taking science in 
 its broader sense of truth ascertained and sys- 
 tematized, almost anything not capable of classi- 
 fication as an art may well be termed a science. 
 While the affinity existing between the diving-rod
 
 McNATT ON SCIENCE 107 
 
 and water or metals underground may be viewed 
 as a phenomenon, yet when we make use of that 
 affinity to produce systematic results we enter the 
 realm of science." 
 
 Willard blinked. "I I suppose so," he agreed 
 vaguely. "Can you find gold that way, too!" 
 
 "It has been done, I think," said McNatt. "I 
 haven't been able to find much data on that sub- 
 ject, though." 
 
 Willard looked more respectfully at the witch- 
 hazel switch. "I guess it wouldn't be much use 
 looking for gold around here, though," he said. 
 g 'How would you know whether you had found 
 gold or water if the thing dipped?" 
 
 McNatt considered in silence a moment. Then 
 he shook his head. "I can't say," he replied. 
 "Perhaps you couldn't tell. Though, as gold is 
 generally located away from water you would 
 hardly expect that the diving-rod was indicating 
 anything but gold." 
 
 "Isn't gold sometimes found in the beds of 
 rivers and streams?" asked Willard. "Seems to 
 me your diving-rod would get sort of mixed, 
 woulc^i't it? And how about silver? Can you 
 find silver that way, too?" 
 
 McNatt looked almost distressed. "As a mat- 
 ter of fact," he said, "I haven't devoted any.
 
 108 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 study to the use of the diving-rod in the location 
 of metals. Your questions open up an interest- 
 ing field, though, and some time I'll go into the 
 subject thoroughly. And still, as I haven't yet 
 demonstrated the ah power of the instrument 
 in the finding of water, possibly it would be idle 
 to extend the experiments. There's one possible 
 explanation of failure that just occurs to me. Old 
 Man Hildreth said he used a hazel stick. He 
 didn't say whether it was the hazel of the nut 
 tribe" 
 
 "I think it must have been," said Willard em- 
 phatically. 
 
 "Or the witch-hazel. The ordinary hazel is a 
 member of the oak family, but does the witch-- 
 hazel belong to the same family? There are cer- 
 tain similarities between the two, and yet they 
 may not be botanically related." McNatt pre- 
 sented a puzzled countenance to Willard. "What 
 would be your opinion?" 
 
 "Search me," said Willard cheerfully. "I 
 thought a hazel was a hazel." 
 
 "I'm afraid not. That may account for my; 
 lack of success. You see, I jumped to the conclu-- 
 sion that the witch-hazel was the proper one, 
 probably because the word 'witch' suggested ah 
 divination. So I may have been wrong." Me-
 
 McNATT ON SCIENCE 109 
 
 Natt's face cleared and he looked quite cheerful 
 again. "I'll have to try again. Only " He 
 paused and pursed his lips dubiously. "Do you 
 happen to know if the hazel grows about 
 here?" 
 
 "Haven't the slightest idea," said Willard. 
 
 "Nor I. I'll have to look that up when I get 
 back. It's strange that the encyclopedias give so 
 little information on the subject of the diving-rod 
 I wonder " McNatt fell silent, and after a mniv 
 ute Willard arose. 
 
 "Well, I guess I'll be getting back," he an- 
 nounced. It was, he concluded, too late to meet 
 .Martin and the others now. 
 
 "Back?" repeated McNatt, coming out of his 
 trance. "Yes, that's so. It must be " He 
 searched under the edge of his sweater for some- 
 thing evidently not there. "Have you a watch? 
 I seem to have forgotten mine." 
 
 "Twenty to five," said Willard. 
 
 "Then we'd better start." McNatt gazed 
 thoughtfully, almost sorrowfully at his witch- 
 hazel stick and laid it gently on the rock. "I may 
 try that again some time, but I rather think I was 
 mistaken; I rather think it should have been the 
 corylus americana." 
 , "Something nutty sounds more likely," said
 
 110 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 Willard gravely. To his surprise, the otheB 
 chuckled. 
 
 "That hadn't occurred to me," he replied* 
 "You see, some of the fellows call me McNutt* 
 By the way, what's your name?" 
 
 Willard told him and McNatt nodded. "Har- 
 mon: the name's familiar. I remember now. 
 There is a fellow of that name who plays 
 football. Quite a remarkable full-back, I 
 think." 
 
 "Gordon Harmon? Did you know him!" 
 
 "I read about him. He played on one of the 
 high school teams in New York City, I believe, 
 Is he a relation of yours ? ' ' 
 
 "Brother." 
 
 "Keally?" McNatt turned and viewed Willard 
 with real interest. "Well! Think of that! I 
 dare say you're sort of proud of him." 
 
 "I suppose so," replied Willard doubtfully. 
 "I don't think I ever thought whether I am or 
 not," he added, laughing. 
 
 "You should be if what they say of him is 
 true," said McNatt earnestly. "I followed his 
 work last season with much interest. A natural^ 
 born full-back, I'd call him. By the way, do you 
 play, too?" 
 
 "A little, I'm out for the team"
 
 McNATT ON SCIENCE 111 
 
 "Full-back? But no, you'd be too light. End, 
 maybe!" 
 
 "Half," said Willard. "I've played there 
 some." 
 
 "Hm." McNatt looked him over critically. 
 "Yes, you might do well there. You look fast. 
 Ten pounds more wouldn't hurt you, though." 
 
 "You talk like a football chap yourself," said 
 [Willard. "Do you play?" 
 
 McNatt shook his head. "I used to, but I got 
 * ah out of sympathy with it. You see, Har- 
 mon, football is capable of being reduced to an 
 exact science, but played in the haphazard man- 
 ner that they play it here it lacks interest. I 
 haven't played recently." 
 
 "Well, I don't see how you can reduce it to any 
 exact science," Willard objected. "Of course, if 
 you knew beforehand what the other fellow was 
 going to do " 
 
 "You miss my meaning," interrupted the 
 older boy. "See here, Harmon. You start with 
 a playing space so many yards in length and so 
 many yards in width. You oppose a team of 
 eleven players with a team of a like number. You 
 may do a certain number of things legitimately. 
 Each situation developed in the course of a foot- 
 ball game calls for a certain move. But that's
 
 112 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 what coaches and quarter-backs don't realize. 
 They think that a situation is unprecedented and, 
 instead of making the move that is called for, 
 they confusedly try something they shouldn't, 3k 
 play never intended for the situation." 
 
 "But how the dickens are you going to know 
 what play the situation does call for?" demanded 
 Willard. "The situations make themselves, and 
 they're all different!" 
 
 "Not at all. There are only a certain number 
 of situations that can eventuate and they are 
 quite capable of tabulation. For the purpose of 
 argument, suppose we set the number at three 
 hundred. Very well, there are consequently three 
 hundred correct moves. Suppose it is A's ball 
 on B's twenty-yard-line on third down with five 
 to go, B has demonstrated that gains between her 
 tackles are practically impossible. A is weak at 
 kicking field-goals, but has proved capable of 
 gaining on runs outside B's right tackle. B has 
 a good defense against forward-passes and has 
 defeated A's attempts to gain that way. Now, 
 then, what is A's correct play?" 
 
 "Why, a skin-tackle play, of course, at the weak 
 end," replied Willard. "At least, theoretically. 
 But suppose the back who carries the ball slips 05 
 turns in too soon or "
 
 McNATT ON SCIENCE 113 
 
 "No science, no matter how exact, is proof 
 against the fallibility of those engaged in its dem- 
 onstration," said McNatt gravely. ''The point' 
 I am trying to prove is that here is a situation 
 that is neither unprecedented nor novel and that,, 
 capable of being recognized, has its proper solu-; 
 tion which may be scientifically applied." 
 
 "Maybe," said Willard, "but, gee, how many, 
 situations would there be to recognize? About a 
 thousand, I'd say!" 
 
 "Many less, I think. I've never attempted to 
 tabulate them, but it would not be a difficult task* 
 Science has performed far more difficult feats." 
 
 "I dare say, but but look here, McNatt, if 
 each team played football like that, I mean if eacK 
 team had the right answer to every situation that 
 might happen, why, gee, neither one would win!" 
 
 "You're wrong, Harmon. You're forgetting 
 the element of human fallibility. Put two chess 
 players at the board, give them each a similar 
 knowledge of the game, and what happens? Do 
 they play to a tie? Very seldom. One wins and 
 the other loses. So it would be in football with 
 each team applying science. One team would ex- 
 cel because she applied it more exactly, perhaps 
 more instantly." 
 
 Willard shook his heed. "It sounds crazy tfli
 
 114 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 me," he said. ''And I don't think I'd want to 
 play if everything was cut-and-dried like that. 
 Hang it, McNatt, it's accident and chance that 
 makes the game interesting." 
 
 "I don't agree with you. I think those things 
 retard the development of it, Harmon. As it is 
 now, individual skill rules. Why, look here. Sup- 
 pose armies fought that way. Suppose a field 
 general said to his subordinates: 'I don't know 
 how to meet this situation. You fellows see what 
 you can do. Maybe we can push back his left 
 wing or maybe we can punch a hole in his center, 
 do something, but don't bother me!' " 
 
 Willard laughed. "That's not a fair compar- 
 ison, though, McNatt," he answered. "At least, 
 in football, the coach or the quarter-back has a 
 plan and carries it out, even if it isn't the right 
 one ! ' ' 
 
 "A wrong plan is no better than no plan. Hap- 
 hazard football is just as silly as haphazard war 
 would be, Harmon. Fellows who teach football 
 talk about the science of it, but they don't study 
 it. Their science begins and ends with finding 
 out the other fellow's weak spot and attacking it." 
 
 "Sounds like pretty good science to me," said 
 [Willard. 
 
 "It is good as far as it goes, but it's only the
 
 McNATT ON SCIENCE 115 
 
 t 
 
 
 
 beginning. Well, here's my way. I'm glad to 
 have met you, Harmon. I'd be glad to continue 
 the subject sometime if you care to visit me. I'm 
 in Number 49. I've got some things that might 
 interest you, too ; rather a good collection of min- 
 erals gathered around here, for one thing : nearly 
 two hundred specimens." 
 
 " Thanks, I'll look you up some time," said 
 Willard, "but I guess I've had enough of that 
 argument. It's too deep for me, McNatt! So 
 long. ' ' 
 
 Willard turned toward Haylow and, when he 
 had gone a little way, looked back. McNatt had 
 stopped near Lawrence Hall and was staring up 
 into the sky. All Willard could see there was a 
 streaky white cloud. He shook his head as he 
 went on again. " 'McNutt' is right, I guess," 
 he muttered.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 ALTON SQUEEZES THROUGH 
 
 INSTEAD of going on to Haylow, Willard entered 
 Lykes and knocked at the door of Number 2. As 
 he had suspected, Martin was there. So were 
 Bob and Joe and Don Harris, Joe's roommate. 
 Don was only seventeen, although his size made 
 him look older, and, like Joe, was a senior. His 
 full name was Donald, but no one ever called him 
 that. He played first base on the school nine and 
 played it well. 
 
 Willard had to hear about the expedition to 
 the new railway bridge and how Stacey and Bob 
 had walked out to the end of the highest girder 
 and then had had to sit down before they -dared 
 turn around! 
 
 " That's all right," Don expostulated in 
 reply to the laughter. "That girder was only a 
 foot wide when I started out on it and by the time 
 I was at the end it had shrunk to about half an 
 inch! And when I looked down the river was so 
 far away I could just see it ! Gosh, I thought for 
 
 116
 
 ALTON SQUEEZES THROUGH 117 
 
 i 
 
 a minute I'd have to stay there until they'd fin- 
 ished the bridge so I could keep on across it!" 
 
 "I wanted to come back on my hands and 
 knees," confessed Bob, "and I'd have done it if 
 I'd been alone! No more circus stunts for little 
 Robert!" 
 
 "What were you doing all the afternoon?" 
 asked Martin presently of Willard, and Willard 
 told of his meeting with McNatt. The incident of 
 the diving-rod amused them all hugely. 
 
 "That's McNutt all over," laughed Joe. "A 
 couple of years ago someone found him over on 
 that hill beyond Badger's farm digging a hole, 
 lie said he was looking for fossil remains. Said 
 the hill looked to him like a glacial glacial whafe 
 voucall it " 
 
 "Moraine," supplied Bob. 
 
 "Yes, moraine. He dug a place big enough for 
 a cellar, I heard, but he never found anything but 
 rocks. He's a wonder, is Felix McNatt!" 
 
 "Is his name really Felix t" asked Martin. 
 
 "Sure! And he's got a middle name that's 
 worse, only I've forgotten it." 
 
 "Felix Adelbert," said Don: "Felix Adelbert 
 McNutt I mean McNatt!" 
 
 " McNutt 's better," laughed Bob. "It suits 
 him perfectly. Remember the time last spring,
 
 118 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 wasn't it? when he was raising toads and one o 
 them got into bed with the chap who rooms with 
 him" 
 
 " Rooms with the toad?" asked Martin incred- 
 ulously. 
 
 "No, with McNutt, you jay! What's his name, 
 ! Joe?" 
 
 11 McNutt 's?" asked Joe, with a wink at Martin. 
 
 "Oh, you make me tired! Fuller, that's the 
 chap! Fuller crawled into bed one night and 
 found a toad there ahead of him and told the hall 
 master the next day. He said he didn't mind hav- 
 ing toads hopping around the room, but that hav- 
 ing to share his bed with them was almost too 
 much. And faculty agreed with him and McNutt 
 had to get rid of his toads." 
 
 "What the dickens did he want with the things, 
 anyway?" asked Don in disgust. "I wouldn't 
 touch one for anything!" 
 
 "Oh, toads are all right," answered Joe. 
 "Quite harmless and friendly. McNutt was rais- 
 ing them, it seemed. He'd read somewhere that 
 an able-bodied toad would eat seven million, three 
 hundred and eighty thousand, nine hundred and 
 thirty- three bugs a year. I'm not absolutely cer- 
 tain of the exact number, but it was something 
 like that. Anyway, McNutt figured that if he
 
 ALTON SQUEEZES THROUGH 119 
 
 i 
 could raise a few hundred toads he could sell them 
 
 to farmers and get rich. He said he was trying 
 to develop an improved strain of toads that would 
 be particularly er insectivorous: I believe 
 that's the word." 
 
 "In justice to the gentleman," said Bob, "it 
 should be stated that it was the the scientific 
 interest of the thing rather than the pecuniary 
 reward that attracted him. Science is McNutt's 
 long suit!" 
 
 "I think Fuller, or whatever his name is, was 
 most unreasonable," laughed Don. "Why, the 
 world might be rid of insects by this time if he 
 hadn't been so cranky! Do toads eat mosquitoes, 
 Joe?" 
 
 "I guess so. I know they eat flies, anyway. I 
 saw one do it once. He stopped about a yard 
 away and the fly didn't even know he was about. 
 Then zip out went Mr. Toad's tongue, like you 
 uncoiled the mainspring of a watch, and the fly 
 was gone!" 
 
 'Flew away, probably," suggested Martin. 
 
 "He did not, son! He was in Mr. Toad's 
 tummy." 
 
 "You say the toad was a yard distant from the 
 fly when the when the shot was fired?" asked 
 Don.
 
 120 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "Well, maybe a couple of feet," Joe oompro. 
 mised. "It was a long way." 
 
 "Take off another eighteen inches," begged 
 Bob earnestly. "I want to believe you, Joseph 
 but two feet " He shook his head sadly. 
 
 "Go to the dickens! It was two feet if it was 
 an inch. Anyone will tell you that a toad's tongue 
 is remarkably long." 
 
 "Nobody has to tell me, after that yarn," re* 
 plied Bob gravely. "All I'm wondering now is 
 where the toad keeps his tongue when he's not 
 using it!" 
 
 "I told you he coils it up," laughed Joe, "like 
 a watch spring." 
 
 "It's a mighty good thing toads can't talk," 
 observed Willard. "With a tongue like that, 
 they'd never stop ! McNatt asked me to come and 
 see him. He said he had a fine collection of min- 
 erals in his room." 
 
 "Minerals? Boy, he's got enough rocks there 
 to build a house ! And bird nests and butterflies 
 and beetles and and things in jars that make you 
 shudder to look at 'em!" Joe shuddered merely 
 at the memory. "He's always trying to hatch 
 out moths and things in cigar boxes. Once he had 
 some silk-worms, I remember. Mr. Screven got 
 him to bring them to class one day. Funny
 
 ALTON SQUEEZES THROUGH 121 
 
 things, they were. They didn't live very long, be- 
 cause McNutt couldn't get the right sort of leaves 
 for them to eat. They should have had mulberry 
 leaves, I think, and he thought some other sort 
 ought to do just as well, and the worms got mad 
 and went on a hunger strike! Fuller told me 
 once that the room is so full of rubbish that he 
 can't turn around. Said he was forever finding 
 a family of white mice or striped lizards tucked 
 away in one of his bureau drawers and that he 
 always had to look before he sat down for fear 
 of sitting on something he shouldn't!" 
 
 When the laughter had subsided Willard told 
 of McNatt's theory regarding scientific football. 
 He found that, as he told it, it didn't sound as 
 plausible as it had when McNatt explained it, but 
 it certainly aroused amusement. Joe drew a pic- 
 ture of Gil Tarver pulling out a memorandum 
 book and looking- up the right play. "Because, 
 you see, not even Gil could ever remember two 
 hundred was it two hundred, Brand? three 
 hundred plays. Probably they'd make a rule that 
 a quarter-back must find his plays unassisted and 
 must not consume more than three minutes look- 
 ing them up ! Gil would have a pocket built on 
 his jacket to keep the book in, I suppose." 
 
 "Gosh, suppose it dropped out!" exclaimed
 
 122 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 Don. "Would he be allowed time-out to look 
 for it!" 
 
 " Probably a center would be picked for his 
 light-finger ability," suggested Bob. "It would 
 be part of his stunt to reach through or around 
 the opposing center and steal the quarter-back's 
 memorandum book, thus placing the enemy hors 
 de combat!" 
 
 "Come on, Brand," begged Martin. "This is 
 getting wild." 
 
 "Did McNatt ever play football?" asked Don, 
 
 "I think so," Joe answered. "Yes, I know he 
 did. He was out for the team the first year I was 
 here. You remember him, Bob?" 
 
 Bob shook his head. "No, but I've heard that 
 he did play." 
 
 "Yes, and I think he played the year before 
 that. Something happened to him, though, my 
 freshman year. I guess he had an accident or 
 got sick. I know he wasn't around long. Seems 
 to me he was trying for half-back. He 's not a bad 
 old scout, Felix Adelbert. Only trouble is, I 
 guess, his brains are sort of scrambled." 
 
 "Addled, maybe," suggested Martin. "Addle- 
 bert MeNutt. Come on, Brand, I'm getting it 
 too!" 
 
 "I think I'll accept his invitation some day,"
 
 ALTON SQUEEZES THROUGH 123 
 
 laid Willard, as they crossed to Haylow. "I'd 
 Uke to see that room of his!" 
 
 The occasion didn't present itself that week, 
 however, for Willard found that life on the foot- 
 ball gridiron had suddenly become both real and 
 earnest. Although Coach Cade had four good 
 half-backs at his command, Willard was not over- 
 looked. But Friday he was on an equal footing 
 with Mawson and Moncks, to all appearances, and 
 was certainly in line for first substitute. He 
 didn't want anything serious or painful to hap- 
 pen to either of those excellent chaps, but he 
 couldn't help reflecting sometimes that if one or 
 the other was to develop something mild, like 
 whooping cough or German measles, he could bear 
 it with equanimity! Failing the likelihood of 
 anything of the kind happening, however, he set 
 himself earnestly to outdo those rivals in prac- 
 tice. After all, while Mawson was rather a better 
 punter and Moncks was shiftier in a broken field, 
 neither was unbeatable, and Willard kept that 
 fact resolutely in mind and worked hard. 
 
 Banning High School came on Saturday and 
 put up a very pretty game against the Gray-and- 
 Gold. In fact, Banning sprang several surprises 
 on the home team, and for a time, during the first 
 of the contest, it looked as though Alton was in
 
 124 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 for a defeat. Banning was light but fast, and in- 
 stead of relying on a forward-passing game as 
 she was expected to rely, she met Alton's own 
 tactics and, from a close, three-abreast forma- 
 tion, shot her backs through the opposing line 
 with discouraging ease. Any place outside guards 
 pleased her, and Alton saw her tackles and ends 
 completely outplayed during the first two periods. 
 Banning 's speed was the secret of her success, 
 and the Gray-and-Gold, heavier and slower, sel- 
 dom stopped the plays until they were well 
 through her line. 
 
 Banning scored first when, near the end of the 
 second quarter, she recovered a short kick on 
 Alton's forty-six and plunged and knifed her way 
 down to the thirty-one. Fast, snappy playing 
 took the ball there in just seven downs. Mr. Cade 
 ran in a substitute left end and a substitute left 
 tackle then, and Banning slowed up. But she 
 reached the twenty-five-yard line before she was 
 halted. There, it being fourth down, with four 
 to go, she made elaborate preparations for a 
 placement kick. Naturally enough, while guard- 
 ing against a fake, Alton expected a kick, and 
 team and spectators were alike surprised when, 
 the ball having flown back to quarter and the 
 kicker having swung his long leg, there followed
 
 ALTON SQUEEZES THROUGH 125 
 
 a long side-pass from the quarter to an end, just 
 as Alton charged ! It looked to those on the side- 
 lines as if the pigskin went between the legs of 
 the Alton end and tackle as they swept around, 
 but probably it didn't. In any event, the wait- 
 ing Banning end caught it neatly and had covered 
 ten yards of the intervening thirty before he was 
 challenged. He shot around the Alton left half 
 and was only brought down when Gil Tarver 
 tackled on the eight yards. 
 
 The line-up was squarely on the five, and al- 
 though the Gray-and-Gold fought desperately 
 there, it took the enemy just three plays to put 
 the ball over. A plunge at the center, with the 
 whole Banning backfield behind the quarter, who 
 carried, yielded most of two yards. Then the 
 full-back ripped around left tackle for as much 
 more, and, on third down, with the other backs 
 running to the right, that troublesome Banning 
 quarter shot through between guard and tackle 
 on the left and put the pigskin just over the last 
 white streak! 
 
 The half ended with the score 6 in the vis- 
 itor's favor, and the home team came in for a 
 "panning" from the stands that, deserved or not, 
 was decidedly enthusiastic. However, the team 
 was not suffering for lack of criticism just then,
 
 126 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 even if it couldn't hear what the spectators were 
 saying. Coach Cade, although mild-mannered, 
 had a fair command of language and could use it 
 when needs be, and the players listened to some 
 home truths during the half-time. 
 
 When the team came back to the field it was 
 noted that Moncks had replaced Cochran at right 
 half, Hutchins had taken Tarver's place at quar- 
 ter and a third-string fellow was playing left 
 tackle. Perhaps, though, it was the talk they had 
 listened to rather than the change in the line-up 
 that produced results, for certainly " Hutch" 
 played no better game behind center than Gil had, 
 and the new tackle was far too green to be of 
 much use. That as may be, Alton showed speed 
 from the start and Banning 's backs were stopped 
 at the line instead of beyond it. Also, the Gray- 
 and-Gold took the offensive when the third quar- 
 ter was a few minutes along and kept it through- 
 out the rest of the game, with the result that the 
 score was tied in the third period, when Moncks 
 got away for a thirty-yard run and a touchdown, 
 and untied at the beginning of the last quarter, 
 when Alton hammered her way from well within 
 her own territory to Banning 's eight yards and 
 then tossed the ball over to Macon between the 
 goal posts. Oddly enough, when Lake kicked an
 
 ALTON SQUEEZES THROUGH 127 
 
 easy goal after the second touchdown, the score 
 became 13 6, which was the score of last week's 
 contest, and 136 it remained. Martin said he 
 guessed thirteen-six was a habit, but when Mt. 
 Millard School got through with Alton, seven 
 days later, he changed his mind!
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE FIRST DEFEAT 
 
 October was a week old Willard had be- 
 come as much a part and parcel of Alton Academy 
 as if he had spent a year there instead of a scant 
 three weeks. For a time he had wondered whether 
 he had made a mistake in substituting it for Kenly 
 Hall, but as he became more and more at home 
 that speculation ceased to trouble him. Even if 
 he had made a mistake, and had known it, the 
 bewildered letter he had received from his mother 
 would have reconciled him to the fact. That let- 
 ter had amused him for days. For the joke of it, 
 he had carefully abstained from explanations and 
 had merely written: "Here I am at Alton Acad- 
 emy, everything unpacked and quite settled. I 
 think I am going to like it immensely." Of 
 course there had been much more, but he had 
 described the school in such a matter-of-fact way 
 that his mother and father, on reading the letter, 
 had almost doubted their memories. 
 
 "Your father," wrote Mrs. Harmon, "says 
 that we may have misunderstood, but I am very, 
 
 128
 
 THE FIRST DEFEAT 129 
 
 very certain you meant to go to Kenly School. 
 You talked about it so frequently that I'm sure 
 I couldn't be mistaken. Kenly School is at Lake- 
 ville, for I've looked it up in a magazine, and 
 your letter was posted at Alton, and your father 
 says the two places are fully ten miles apart. I 
 do hope everything is all right, but I simply can't 
 understand why you didn't explain more fully in 
 your letter. Do let me hear from you right away, 
 dear, and tell me just what happened." 
 
 Of course Willard had answered the appeal 
 promptly and explained fully, emphasizing the 
 real or imaginary advantages of Alton over 
 Kenly, and had received a second letter from home 
 that was not nearly so sympathetic as it might 
 have been. It was his father who wrote this time, 
 and Mr. Harmon dwelt, at what "Willard thought 
 was undue length, on the latter 's Lamentable Lack 
 of Serious Purpose, pointing out that attaining 
 an education was not a pursuit to be governed by 
 levity. That epistle had the effect of making 
 Willard rather more devoted to his studies for 
 awhile at least and so was not written in vain. 
 
 His studies, though, promised to cause him 
 scant worry, for he had come well prepared for 
 the Alton junior year. Greek, which he had 
 elected to make up the required number of hours,
 
 130 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 was new to him and so presented some difficulties, 
 "but lie was consoled with the knowledge that by 
 taking the course this year he could, if he wished, 
 'drop it the last half of his senior year. Martin, 
 who had left Greek severely alone, his motto 
 being "Don't Look for Trouble," told Willard 
 that he was a chump and dwelt at length on the 
 merits of Science 4 as a * ' snap course. ' ' To which 
 ^Willard virtuously replied that he was attending 
 the Academy to acquire an education and not to 
 spend his time in slothfulness. Whereupon Mar- 
 tin upset him onto the bed, placed a pillow over 
 his head and sat on it. 
 
 About this time Martin was making Bob New- 
 hall's life a burden to him by solicitous inquiries 
 regarding his health. Martin had a way of ob- 
 serving Bob anxiously and attempting to feel his 
 pulse that the latter found very trying. Of course 
 Bob could refuse to have his heart action inves- 
 tigated, and could and did decline to put out 
 Ms tongue for Martin to inspect, but he couldn't 
 prevent Martin from eyeing him narrowly on all 
 occasions and shaking his head sorrowfully over 
 what he pretended to believe were the ravages of 
 'disease. "I don't like those deep circles under 
 your eyes, Bob," Martin would say gravely. 
 "Sleep pretty well, do you?"
 
 THE FIRST DEFEAT 131 
 
 "About nine hours, thanks," Bob would reply 
 shortly. 
 
 "I was afraid of that! That's one of the un- 
 mistakable symptoms. Feel tired in the morn- 
 ing? Sort of worried and oppressed without 
 knowing why?" 
 
 "Not until I run across you ! And then I know 
 why blamed well!" 
 
 "Irritable, too! Dear, dear! Bob, why don't 
 you drop in at the doctor's some day and just let 
 him look you over? Of course there may be noth- 
 ing serious, nothing that can't be remedied if 
 taken in time, but I'd feel a lot easier about you 
 if you saw someone, honest I would!" 
 
 "You'll feel easier if I hand you a wallop," 
 growled Bob. ' ' Say, if you played guard half as 
 hard as you work that silly tongue of yours you 
 might amount to something!" 
 
 Martin spent a whole hour in the library one 
 morning and emerged with a fine fund of infor- 
 mation regarding the sleeping sickness and the 
 ravages of the tse-tse fly, and after that he be- 
 came doubly obnoxious to Bob. Martin may or 
 may not have been correct in connecting the bite 
 of the tse-tse with the sleeping sickness, but the 
 way in which he drove the flies away from Bob's 
 vicinity proved that he meant to take no chances.
 
 132 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 Strangely, the object of his solicitous care re- 
 sented this manifestation of it more than any 
 other, and Martin had only to fix a piercing gaze 
 on the tip of Bob's nose and begin a cautious 
 approach with uplifted hand to throw Bob into 
 a paroxysm of lamentable anger. Martin, re- 
 pulsed, would explain in hurt tones that never 
 having seen the tse-tse fly he couldn't be supposed 
 to know it from the common or house-fly, and that 
 he consequently was using only excusable caution. 
 Naturally enough, Willard and Joe enjoyed the 
 nonsense and egged Martin on, but when the latter 
 began flooding Bob's mail with patent medicine 
 circulars and stories of miraculous cures clipped 
 from the newspapers, Bob's patience became ex- 
 hausted and he vowed revenge. 
 
 "I'm going to get good and even with you, 
 Mart," he declared one afternoon when Martin 
 had drawn his attention to an advertisement ex- 
 tolling the merits of a net to be worn over the 
 head to the utter confusion of mosquitoes and 
 flies. "When I get through with you, my humor- 
 ous young friend, you won't know there's such a 
 word as 'fly' in the English language. And you'll 
 be good and sick yourself, believe me!" 
 
 Martin, however, professed to believe the 
 threat only the empty ravings of a mind affected
 
 THE FIRST DEFEAT 133 
 
 by disease, and was quite interested by what he 
 declared was an unusual manifestation of the 
 malady. But Bob looked unusually grim and ex- 
 hibited such unaccustomed patience that Martin 
 confided to Willard later that he "guessed he had 
 got old Bob's goat at last." 
 
 "You'd better watch out that he doesn't get 
 yours," laughed Willard. "I believe he means 
 to try it." 
 
 "It's the last stage before the final break- 
 down," replied Martin gravely. "He won't last 
 much longer, I'm afraid!" 
 
 That pessimistic prophecy was made on Friday 
 night, and the next afternoon Alton traveled to 
 Warren and played Mt. Millard School. Some 
 eighty or ninety fellows accompanied the team 
 and were present at the Waterloo. Willard 
 watched the game from the bench, dressed for 
 play, and saw his chance of getting into it dwindle 
 into nothingness as Mt. Millard piled up her 
 score. It is the historian's privilege to avoid such 
 events as he may consider unworthy of inclusion 
 in his narrative, and the present historian gladly 
 avails himself of that privilege. Suffice it to say 
 that Mt. Millard out-rushed, out-punted and out- 
 generaled Alton and won a lopsided contest by a 
 score of 19 0. Joe Myers summed it all up on
 
 134 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 the way home when he said briefly: "Funeral 
 from the late residence. No flowers." 
 
 Later that game was looked on as extremely 
 good medicine, for it proved one or two things 
 most conclusively; as, for instance, that a back- 
 field wanting the services of a good plunging full- 
 back was a far from complete institution, and 
 that the forward line of a football team, like a 
 chain, was as strong as its weakest unit, and no 
 stronger. At full-back in that Mt. Millard game, 
 Steve Brown had proved himself a failure. Nor 
 had Linthicum, who had taken his place at the be- 
 ginning of the third period, done any better. The 
 following week saw the search for a likely suc- 
 cessor to Browne take on new ardor. The sub- 
 stitute bench was combed carefully without sat- 
 isfactory results and Greenwood was brought over 
 from the second team and given a try-out. Green- 
 wood did his level best to please, but that he 
 failed was apparent from the fact that he was 
 back on the second three days later. Of course 
 Coach Cade tried the old game of switching, but 
 Bob Newhall, Leroy, who played left tackle none 
 too well, Lake and Mawson all fell down. Even 
 Martin was considered and passed over, and on 
 Thursday the full-back problem was no nearer a 
 solution than at any time that fall.
 
 THE FIRST DEFEAT 13S 
 
 The left end of the line was causing trouble, 
 too. Leroy, at tackle, appeared to be miscast 
 badly, and Sanford, at end, was no match for his 
 opponents at any time. Putney and Rhame, the 
 most promising tackle and end substitutes, were 
 far from satisfactory. That week was a week of 
 experiments and confusion, and Coach Cade had 
 a worried look quite foreign to his countenance. 
 Three days of wretched weather added to the dif- 
 ficulties, for Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday 
 were each cold and rainy, and by the last day the 
 gridiron was not much better than a bog. Under 
 these circumstances the team would scarcely be 
 expected to make much progress, nor did it. Joe 
 Myers was extremely peevish most of the week 
 and Don Harris, visiting Number 16 Haylow one 
 evening, remarked feelingly that he would be 
 mighty glad when football was over for the 
 season. 
 
 It was the miserable weather on Thursday that 
 sent Willard over to Upton Hall. There had 
 been an hour of indoor practice in the gymna- 
 sium, but the slippery ground and relentless 
 downpour of rain had prohibited any use of the 
 field, and at half -past four Willard found himself 
 at a loose end. Martin had gone up to one of the 
 society rooms in Academy Hall to play pool, and,
 
 136 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 although he had asked Willard to go with him, 
 the latter, not being a member, had thought it 
 best to decline. On the porch of the gymnasium 
 he watched the swishing rain and the inundated 
 paths and wondered what to do with himself. 
 The answer came when his disconsolate gaze, 
 roaming the cheerless world, lighted on Upton 
 Hall. Recollection of Felix McNatt and his invi- 
 tation came to him and, turning up his collar, he 
 plunged into the deluge. He didn't remember the 
 number of McNatt 's room, but he could find it, 
 he supposed. On the second floor, he knocked on 
 a nearby door and obtained the information from 
 a surprised occupant. Number 49 proved to be 
 on the third floor, and Willard 's knock elicited a 
 muffled "Come in!" As the door was locked, 
 however, Willard did not immediately accept the 
 invitation. "Wait a moment, please," came Mc- 
 Natt 's voice from within. Then a chair was over- 
 turned, footsteps approached and the door was 
 thrown open. 
 
 ' l Oh, hello ! ' ' greeted McNatt cordially. * ' Come 
 in. Sorry to keep you waiting, but this thing's 
 out of order somewhere." He leaned down to 
 examine a bolt on the door frame, and then fol- 
 lowed with his eyes a wire that proceeded from 
 the bolt to the ceiling and across the latter,
 
 THE FIKST DEFEAT 137 
 
 through a number of screw-eyes, to a point above 
 the study table in the middle of the room. From 
 there it descended to within convenient reach of a 
 person seated at the table, terminating in a 
 wooden knob. Willard viewed it with amused 
 interest. 
 
 "Quite a scheme," he said. "Your invention, 
 McNatt!" 
 
 "Yes, it saves time, you see. Trouble is, 
 though, it will get out of order. Ought to have 
 small wheels for it to run on instead of those 
 eyes. Let's see now." He pulled the knob down 
 and the bolt slipped obediently from its socket 
 with a business-like click. McNatt shrugged ex- 
 pressively. "All right now, you see. It binds 
 somewhere, I guess. Sit down, Harmon." He 
 indicated a Morris chair in need of repair and 
 Willard seated himself and looked around. The 
 rooms in Upton were slightly larger, it seemed, 
 than those in the newer dormitories, and Willard 
 considered it a most fortunate circumstance, since 
 a smaller room would never have accommodated 
 all the articles that met his gaze. Besides the 
 ordinary furnishings, there were two bookcases, 
 a set of book shelves that hung on a wall and sev- 
 eral boxes up-ended to serve as auxiliary tables. 
 McNatt was telling Willard of his failure to find
 
 138 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 information regarding the use of the diving-rod 
 in the location of metals and saying some bitter 
 things about the reference department of the 
 Academy library, but Willard was too much inter- 
 ested in the room to pay much heed. 
 
 The place looked like a compromise between a 
 museum and a laboratory. Stuffed birds and 
 small animals peered down with glassy eyes from 
 all sides, a badly mounted pickerel on a board 
 presented a hungry mouth, a snake skin depended 
 from the corner of a framed picture that showed, 
 in colors, what was probably a quiet Sunday after-! 
 noon in the Garden of Eden. It was an engaging 
 picture, and Willard studied it curiously before^ 
 his gaze went past. All the animals of which he 
 had ever heard were depicted in it, and all were 
 grouped about in peace and friendliness, even the 
 lions in the foreground smiling on the beholder 
 with truly benevolent countenances. 
 
 Methods of saving time or labor were apparent 
 on every hand in the shape of mechanical appli- 
 ances. A complicated arrangement of cords al- 
 lowed of the lowering or raising of the window, 
 shades without approaching the windows; al- 
 though Willard could not see that it was any far- 
 ther from the table to the windows than it was to 
 the side of the room where the cords hung.! Q*
 
 THE FIRST DEFEAT 139 
 
 the chair in which he sat a home-made book- 
 holder was attached to one arm, while, by reach- 
 ing underneath, one could pull forth an extension 
 that accommodated one's legs and feet, though 
 probably not very comfortably. Later he discov- 
 ,ered that a switch attached to the wall beside the 
 head of McNatt's bed in the alcove allowed that 
 ingenious youth to put on or off the electric light 
 without arising. 
 
 The bookcases held all sorts of things except 
 books, although there were plenty of the latter 
 distributed about in such unusual places as the 
 window-seat and the tops of the two chiffoniers. 
 Indeed, a set of encyclopedias of ancient vintage 
 found lodgment along the baseboard on the floor. 
 ,The bookcases had been consecrated to Science, 
 it appeared, for in the nearer one dozens and 
 dozens of birds' eggs peered forth from cotton- 
 batting nests and in the other McNatt's collec- 
 tion of minerals was installed. The study table 
 overflowed with a motley debris of books, papers, 
 a microscope, pieces of wire, bits of wood, a blow- 
 pipe, a specimen- jar half filled with a dark-brown 
 liquid that from its appearance and odor was 
 plainly " working," a mouse-trap empty, as 
 "Willard was relieved to discover and so many 
 other thiBgs that it would be useless to attempt
 
 140 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 an enumeration of them. Willard was still 
 looking about when McNatt interrupted his in- 
 spection. 
 
 4 'Would you like to see my minerals!" he 
 asked. 
 
 Willard politely replied that he would and Mc- 
 Natt opened the doors of the case and thereupon 
 held forth for some ten minutes, during which 
 time Willard pretended interest in various speci- 
 mens and said " Really?", "Is that so?" and 
 "Indeed!" dozens of times. When it came to the 
 birds' eggs he had the courage to say that he 
 wasn't very much interested, and McNatt passed 
 them by. "I'm thinking of getting rid of them," 
 he announced. "I need the space for other 
 things. If you hear of anyone who'd like a nice 
 collection I wish you'd let me know." Willard 
 agreed and was shown some choice things in co- 
 coons, an extensive collection of butterflies and 
 moths which occupied the two lower drawers of 
 McNatt 's chiffonier, several specimens of tree- 
 fungus, a cigar-box full of shells gathered along 
 the river, a pair of chameleons in a shoe-box, a 
 number of small phials filled with liquids of vari- 
 ous hues which McNatt assured him were vege- 
 table dyes, another phial of whitish powder that 
 its exhibitor called kaolin, and numerous other
 
 THE FIRST DEFEAT 141 
 
 wonders. McNatt was quite impressive about the 
 kaolin. 
 
 1 'I guess I'm the only one who knows about it,*' 
 he said, lowering his voice and looking guardedly 
 toward the door. "It's immensely valuable, you 
 know." 
 
 "Is it?" asked Willard. 
 
 "Oh, yes. It's what they make porcelain from. 
 China clay they call it sometimes. There's a big 
 deposit of it where I found this, and maybe some 
 day I'll buy the land and develop it. Meanwhile, 
 of course, I'm keeping very quiet about it." 
 
 "Of course," murmured Willard. 
 
 "And here's another thing," continued Mc- 
 Natt. "Take these vegetable dyes. There isn't 
 one of those you couldn't make just as well as 
 I did, Harmon!" 
 
 "You don't say?" 
 
 "Yes, sir! And every one is matle of some- 
 thing that grows right beside your door, as you 
 might say. Now take this." He shook a phial 
 until the sediment at the bottom turned the liquid 
 to a muddy purple as seen against the light. 
 "Nothing but poke-berry! I don't mind letting 
 you in on that because lots of people know about 
 getting color from poke-berry. But here's one, 
 by ginger* you won't often see!" He held up a
 
 142 LEFT HALF H ARMOft 
 
 second bottle and Willard gazed on a quite gor-j 
 geous crimson. "How's that for color?" askecj 
 McNatt. "You don't find anything finer than 
 that, I'll bet!" 
 
 "Mighty pretty," responded Willard. "What's 
 that made from?" 
 
 McNatt chuckled, winked portentously and 
 shook his head. "That's a secret. I'd tell you 
 only I might want to go into the business some 
 day, Harmon. Not as a life-work, you under-i 
 stand, but Know anything about mycology?"- 
 
 "No, what is it!" 
 
 1 ' The study of mushrooms and fungi. Awfully; 
 interesting. I'm just taking it up. Some of them 
 make wonderful dyes, and that's what started me. 
 I've found thirteen varieties of mushrooms al- 
 ready, and I've been out only four times." He 
 looked approvingly out at the rain. "There'll be 
 lots of them tomorrow, I guess. I found a giant 
 puff-ball over near where I met you that day, 
 only it was rotten. They're delicious eating. 
 Some day when I find one that's in good condi- 
 tion I'll let you know and we'll have a feast. I've 
 got a little alcohol stove in there that you can cook 
 almost anything on. I had a few the other night 
 and they were mighty good. Winfred Winfred 
 Fuller, you know; he rooms here with me Win*
 
 THE FIEST DEFEAT 143 
 
 fred said they made him feel sort of sick, but I 
 guess it was more likely something he had for 
 dinner. ' ' 
 
 ''Still, some mushrooms are poisonous, aren't 
 they?" inquired Willard doubtfully. 
 
 "Lots of them, but it isn't difficult to tell them 
 from the others, you know. I've got a book that 
 tells all about it. Where is it?" McNatt looked 
 rather hopelessly about him. "I don't see it just 
 now. Winf red's mixed my things up again, I 
 dare say. He's a very decent fellow, but he 
 hasn't any idea of orderliness. Next time you 
 come it will probably be around." 
 
 Their travels had brought them back to the cor- 
 ridor end of the room and Willard 's attention 
 [was attracted by a small bottle hanging by a 
 string from a thumb-tack beneath the electric 
 light switch. " What's that for?" he asked. 
 
 "Eh? Oh, that?" McNatt removed it as he 
 spoke. "That's no good any more. I had a glow- 
 worm and a firefly in there, but the firefly ate the 
 glow-worm, or maybe it was the other way 
 around: I forget now; and then the one who'd 
 eaten the other one died, too. ' ' He took the stop- 
 per from the bottle and inverted it, allowing the 
 dried remains of some small occupant to fall out. 
 *' Besides," he added, "you can buy little dink-
 
 144 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 uses made of radium that'll do the same thing 
 now. ' ' 
 
 ''Well, but but what was it they did?" asked 
 Willard. 
 
 "Oh, they glowed, you know, in the dark, and 
 showed where the switch was." McNatt tossed 
 the empty bottle to the table. ' ' Trouble was they 
 didn't always glow when you wanted them to and 
 sometimes you had to stand around and wait 
 quite a while." 
 
 Seated again, McNatt tilted back in his chair 
 and observed Willard thoughtfully for a moment. 
 Then: "Returning to the subject we were dis- 
 cussing the other day, Harmon," he announced, 
 "I've been sort of outlining a system along the 
 lines we spoke of. I haven't gone into it thor- 
 oughly, of course, but I've estimated that the 
 number of possible situations in a football game 
 approximate one hundred and sixty. I may be 
 slightly in error, of course, for I haven't played 
 recently and there have been several alterations 
 in the rules, but I'm not far out of the way. That 
 number includes situations occurring both in at- 
 tack and defense. I've got a rough summary here 
 somewhere." He began to rummage over the 
 table. "It's a piece of yellow paper. Is it on 
 your side anywhere? Now I wonder what I did
 
 THE FIRST DEFEAT 145 
 
 with it. Well, never mind, it'll show up again 
 some day. Anyway, my idea would be to ah * 
 catalogue them, as one might say, according to 
 their locations on the field of play. I'd divide 
 the gridiron into, say, ten zones longitudinally 
 and three zones laterally, giving thirty areas in 
 all. Numbering perhaps lettering would be bet- 
 ter, though: lettering such area Have you got 
 to go?" 
 
 "Yes, I'm afraid so," replied Willard. "I : 
 it's getting along toward six o'clock. I'd like to 
 hear about it some other time, though, McNatt. 
 I say, why don't you come over to my room some 
 evening and let Mart Proctor hear it? He'd be 
 awfully interested, I'm sure. Mart's on the team, 
 too, you know; plays guard. I wish you would." 
 
 "Why, I don't visit around much," answered 
 the other hesitantly, as he reached for the knob 
 that unbolted the door. "I don't have time, you 
 see, and just now I'm most interested in mycol- 
 ogy, Harmon. By the way, don't forget about 
 that mushroom supper we're going to have!"
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 "DO YOUR BEST" 
 
 FRIDAY dawned fair and warm, and Willard, look- 
 ing forth from a window while dressing, smilingly 
 pictured McNatt, far afield, gathering mushrooms 
 from the sunlit meadows. One thing, however, 
 was certain, Willard reflected, and that was that 
 the enthusiastic McNatt would never induce him 
 to partake of that mushroom supper ! Yesterday 
 he might perhaps have taken a chance, but today 
 life was too well worth living. 
 
 In the afternoon, contrary to custom, there was 
 a hard and prolonged scrimmage between the first 
 and second teams. Ordinarily the day before a 
 contest was given over to formation drill, with 
 only a brief line-up, but today, with Lorimer 
 Academy looming dangerously ahead, Coach Cade 
 couldn't afford to be lenient. One radical change 
 in the first team line-up was apparent when the 
 two teams faced each other. Arnold Lake, the 
 regular left half-back, was at left end in place 
 of San ford, and Mawson was at left half. Doubt- 
 He
 
 1 'DO YOUR BEST" 
 
 less it was only an experiment and might not 
 prove satisfactory, but Willard saw, with a 
 quickening of his pulse, that if the change became 
 permanent he would be one notch nearer the real- 
 ization of his hopes. With only Mawson and, 
 perhaps, Moncks ahead of him, the position of 
 first substitute was just over the horizon. And 
 events that day certainly fostered optimism, for 
 before the practice game was over Mawson was 
 relegated to the bench and Willard took his place. 
 For something like ten minutes life was very 
 strenuous for him. The first was thrice given the 
 ball on the second's twenty-yard-line and thrice 
 failed to take it over, although Coach Cade 
 stormed and Gil Tarver commanded and Captain 
 Bob Myers implored. The second fought desper- 
 ately and would not yield the final few feet. In 
 those assaults Willard played his part well, mak- 
 ing up in speed and aggressiveness what he lacked 
 in weight. If he didn't perform any outstanding 
 feat, at least he gained as certainly as Cochran, 
 beside him, and more surely than Steve Browne, 
 again restored to full-back position for lack of a 
 better man. The nearest thing to a mishap be- 
 falling Willard was his failure to hold a short 
 forward-pass over the left of the line that might 
 possibly have produced the desired score. But he
 
 148 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 was sorely beset and, jostled and badgered by the 
 second team backs, he could not make the ball 
 secure after it reached him. That came in the last 
 attack, and afterwards, when Cochran's desperate 
 attempt at the left of center had failed to carry 
 him over by two feet, the ball was given to the 
 second and Greenwood, standing behind his goal, 
 kicked to safety. It is quite possible that Willard 
 looked for some slight expression of commenda- 
 tion from captain or coach when the whistle blew, 
 for he was under the impression that he had done 
 none so badly for a first appearance on the big 
 team, but the only mention of his part in the 
 fracas that he heard was made by the quarter- 
 back. Probably Tarver had no intention of being 
 unkind, but his regrets haunted Willard for the 
 rest of the day. 
 
 "Too bad you couldn't hold that forward, Har- 
 mon," Tarver said on the way back to the gym- 
 nasium. ' * Gee, we 'd have had a score sure if you 
 had!" 
 
 Seeking sympathy, Willard repeated the re- 
 mark to Martin that evening, expecting Martin to 
 tell him that it wasn't his fault and that Gil 
 Tarver was unreasonable. But Martin only 
 shook his head as he replied cheerfully: "Yes, 
 it was a shame, Brand. Still, I don't believe first
 
 "DO YOUR BEST" 149 
 
 would have scored. Gil threw too short and you 
 were five yards from the line." 
 
 "We-ell," said Willard, "you think I ought to 
 have caught it!" 
 
 "What? Oh, I don't know about that. You've 
 got to be mighty quick to get your hands around 
 a forward or else you'll miss it. And it's a heap 
 easier than it looks, usually." 
 
 Willard went to sleep that night somewhat dis- 
 heartened by the conclusion that Fortune had 
 given him an opportunity to prove his ability and 
 he had failed. Doubtless, he thought, another 
 such opportunity would be long in coming. He 
 lived over that disastrous attempt to catch the 
 forward-pass and wondered whether, had he 
 leaped an instant sooner, he would have held it; 
 whether, in short, anything he could have done 
 and didn't would have insured success. He tried 
 to comfort himself with the reiterated assertion 
 that no one, not even Captain Myers, whose work 
 on the receiving end of forward-passes was phe- 
 nomenal, could have done any better, but he fell 
 asleep before reiteration produced conviction and 
 passed through a number of unpleasant dreams 
 before he awoke again to a bright and brisk Oc- 
 tober morning. 
 
 Lorimer was always an uncertain quantity
 
 150 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 when it came to the yearly gridiron contests with 
 Alton, and, since the red-legged invaders had 
 nosed out a victory over the Gray-and-Gold last 
 fall, it was held to be highly desirable that a con- 
 clusive defeat be handed them on the present oc- 
 casion. And there appeared to be no good reason 
 why Alton shouldn't win, for, while Lorimer was 
 well coached and knew plenty of football, she had 
 sustained two defeats so far this season and had 
 but one victory to her credit. 
 
 To Willard, observing proceedings from the 
 bench, sandwiched between Martin and Ned Rich- 
 ards, the playing of Lake at left end again brought 
 renewed encouragement. At least it was evident 
 that Mr. Cade believed well enough of the experi- 
 ment to give it a thorough trial, and all during the 
 game Willard rooted hard, if silently, for the 
 ex-half-back and prayed that he would make good 
 as an end ! Lorimer took the kick-off and at once 
 showed her running ability when a tow-headed 
 right half reeled off nearly thirty yards before 
 Cochran brought him down. The enemy showed 
 several novel variations of old plays and twice 
 made first down before she was finally forced to 
 kick on Alton's forty- two yards. She was master 
 of the shift and sent her plays at the long or short 
 side of the line with beautiful and confusing im-
 
 "DO YOUR BEST" 151 
 
 partiality. Also, her backfield was composed of 
 slim, fast and elusive youths who had a remark- 
 able faculty of slipping out of the opponents' 
 clutches. In brief, it became apparent during the 
 first few minutes of play that the home team was 
 destined to have her hands full that afternoon 
 and would be supremely fortunate if she kept her 
 goal-line inviolate. The first quarter, however, 
 passed without either team reaching scoring dis- 
 tance. There was much punting, at which Alton 
 was slightly superior, and many attempts at end 
 running by Lorimer, some of which succeeded. 
 Only one forward-pass was tried, and that, by 
 the enemy, went wrong and landed the ball in 
 Alton's hands. The latter made her distance five 
 times and Lorimer four, and at the end of the 
 first twelve minutes an unbiased critic would have 
 said that on performance the opponents were 
 about equal. He might have added, however, that 
 the Red somehow gave the impression of having 
 more in reserve than the Gray-and-Gold, and if 
 he had said so he would have been proved correct 
 by future events. 
 
 Alton started a brave advance in the second 
 period and, with Cochran and Mawson alternate 
 ing on attacks between tackles and Gil Tarver 
 scampering around the ends, thrice made it first
 
 152 LEFT HALF HABMON 
 
 down in enemy territory. But on Lorimer's 
 twenty-seven yards, Lake became too eager and 
 Alton was set back for off-side, and after a futile 
 attempt to make up the lost ground, Tarver fell 
 back and kicked to the three yards. Lorimer 
 punted on second down and the pigskin fell into 
 Tarver 's hands in midfield and that hustled back 
 seven yards before he consented to stop. Alton 
 took up the journey again, while some three hun- 
 dred brazen-throated adherents cheered encour- 
 agingly from the stand. Halted on the thirty-six, 
 Browne threw overhead to Joe Myers and Joe 
 caught brilliantly and was toppled for an eight- 
 yard gain. Lake, skirting around, took the ball 
 from Tarver and tried hard to make good on the 
 farther side, but was run back for a two-yard loss. 
 Another forward grounded, and Tarver, with 
 twelve to go on third down, faked a kick and car- 
 ried outside right tackle to Lorimer's sixteen for 
 the distance. The Gray-and-Gold shouted jubi- 
 lantly and chanted her desire for a touchdown. 
 But, although Mawson got three through Lori- 
 mer's left and followed it with two more off tackle 
 on the other side, again Fortune turned her thumb 
 down. Stacey Ross was caught holding and a 
 stern referee paced the pigskin back an intermin- 
 able fifteen yards. Tarver 's run from kick for-
 
 "DO YOUR BEST" 153 
 
 mation failed to fool the enemy and he regained 
 but twelve of the fifteen. Perhaps a forward-pass 
 would have gained the distance, but Tarver chose 
 to try for a field-goal, and, standing near Lori- 
 mer's twenty-five-yard line, he held out his hands 
 while the stands grew still. The angle was not 
 severe and if Leroy, at left tackle, had held firm, 
 the quarter would probably have scored three 
 points that later in the day would have loomed 
 large. But Leroy gave before the desperate on- 
 slaught of the foe and Tarver was hurried. The 
 ball had height and distance, but not direction, 
 and passed a foot to the right of the nearest 
 upright. 
 
 The half ended a minute later with the pigskin 
 in Lorimer's possession near her forty. 
 
 Willard trotted back to the gymnasium with 
 the rest and hugged the knowledge that Arnold 
 Lake had shown himself a valuable man at the 
 end of the line. Willard could have told you al- 
 most every move that Lake had made during 
 those twenty-four minutes of playing time ! Coach 
 Cade was sparing of criticism today, for no glar- 
 ing faults had been apparent and the fighting 
 spirit had been evident. He did warn against in- 
 fractions of the rules, however, pointing out that 
 had it not been for Ross's holding Alton would
 
 154 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 now be at least six points to the good. "We lost 
 thirty yards by penalties, and Lorimer lost only 
 ten. The twenty yards' difference may mean the 
 loss of the game. Guard against being off-side, 
 fellows, and against holding. Don't let's make 
 the opponent any gifts! You've got to fight 
 harder this half and run your plays off quicker. 
 You're up against a heady bunch of fellows and 
 you've got to outwit them as well as outplay them 
 if you're going to win. I want to see the backs 
 start a little quicker and hit the line with more 
 steam. That applies to you especially, Browne. 
 You have a rotten tendency to slow up at the line, 
 just when you should be going the hardest. You 
 miss two and three yards regularly on every play 
 by that sort of thing. See if you can't put more 
 slam into it!" 
 
 Five minutes later they were back again, 
 greeted by the longdrawn "A 1 t o n! 
 ALT0NH A L T-O-N!!!" from 
 hundreds of throats. And, when the Gray-and- 
 Gold-striped players had spread down the field for 
 the kick-off, there came the sharp, rifle-shot 
 cheer of 
 
 A-L-T-0-N! A-L-T-0-N!! A-L-T-0-NMI 
 Win ! Win ! Win ! Win ! Win ! Win ! Win ! Win ! 
 
 It was nip-and-tuck for the first half of that
 
 "DO YOUR BEST" 155 
 
 third period, with neither team making headway 
 and the ball in air half the time. Alton's forward- 
 passes failed whenever tried, for Lorimer had a 
 really brilliant defense against that play. From 
 one thirty-yard line to another the battle raged, 
 Lorimer making up for Alton 's slight superiority 
 at punting by a better end attack. Gains through 
 the line were not forthcoming to either team. Lor- 
 imer began to use her substitutes and Coach Cade 
 followed her example by sending in Martin Proc- 
 tor for Boss. Just before the period ended Gil 
 Tarver gave way to Hutchins at quarter-back. 
 There was no scoring and the whistle piped with 
 the ball in Alton's hands on her opponent's thirty- 
 eight. 
 
 While the referee carried the ball across the cen- 
 ter and the players gathered about the water pails 
 [Willard heard his name called and looked down 
 the bench to see Mr. Cade beckoning. His heart 
 turned a complete somersault or seemed to 
 while he traversed the eight yards and halted be- 
 fore the coach ! 
 
 "Harmon, you've showed a pretty fair knack of 
 getting away outside tackles, ' ' said Mr. Cade. ' ' Do 
 you think you could manage to do it if you went 
 in there now?" 
 
 Willard was conscious of the players on either
 
 156 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 side of the coach, could feel their slightly amused 
 glances on him and knew they were waiting in- 
 tently for his answer. He felt supremely awkward 
 and embarrassed at that moment. But he had to 
 say something, for Mr. Cade, although he was 
 watching the players assembling again, was await- 
 ing a reply. 
 
 "I'll try, sir," he managed. 
 
 Mr. Cade nodded. " Won't promise, eh?" He 
 looked up then into Willard's face, and the boy was 
 vastly relieved to see that his eyes were twinkling. 
 U A11 right, go ahead," said the coach. "Your 
 right end looms the easiest, Harmon. If you can 
 get that left end of theirs to play wide for a for- 
 ward-pass you ought to be able to get started. Do 
 your best, boy," Mr. Cade nodded again, smilingly. 
 
 "Left half, sir?" asked Willard, through the 
 folds of his sweater, which simply wouldn't come 
 off. 
 
 "Left half," responded the coach.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 A FORTY- YARD RUN 
 
 MAWSON yielded position and head-guard unwill- 
 ingly. He even sneered a little, but Willard was 
 far too excited to see it. He took his position two 
 yards away from Cochran, eyeing that youth's 
 dirt-streaked countenance with speculative inter- 
 est as he did so, and awaited Hutch's signals. 
 Slightly behind him, Browne was breathing ster- 
 torously, a cut at one corner of his mouth lending 
 him a particularly ferocious look. 
 
 "Third down!" chanted the referee. " About 
 six to gain!" 
 
 Then Willard was squirming in between Leroy 
 and Myers, while Browne, hugging the ball, 
 smashed past center on the other side. The play 
 went for three yards. Then Hutch punted miser- 
 ably, barely over the heads of the forwards, and 
 the ball plumped into the Lorimer quarter-back's 
 arms and that youth came dodging, dashing back 
 up the field to the thirty-one yards. On the first 
 play Macon was off-side and Alton lost five yards. 
 A complicated criss-cross sent a back plunging
 
 158 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 between Newhall and Proctor, and Browne's 
 tackle missed and it was Hutch who laid him low; 
 twelve yards behind the line. The visitor's co- 
 horts cheered madly. Lorimer tried a forward to 
 an end far to the right, but Lake and Willard each 
 had the man marked and the pass grounded. A! 
 skin-tackle play off Proctor netted four yards, 
 and, on third down, faking a kick, the Lorimer; 
 full-back plunged straight through Nichols, at 
 center, for four more. Willard emerged from 
 that pile-up with a ringing head and was glad 
 when time was called, even though, as it proved, 
 the interlude was necessitated by an injury to 
 Browne. Willard sat down on the ground and 
 tried to look happy, but he was horribly dizzy 
 and the group around the recumbent full-back 
 wavered before his eyes. Eventually they took 
 Browne off and replaced him with Linthicum, and 
 the game went on. 
 
 Lorimer was on her mettle now and she made 
 it first down on Alton's forty-one with a smash- 
 ing attack at left tackle. Finding that spot weak, 
 she tried it again and, although Captain Myers 
 worked like a Trojan to stop up the gap, an enemy 
 back charged through for nearly five yards. Le- 
 roy was pretty well played out after that, and 
 Putney took his place. Lorimer made her dis-
 
 A FORTY- YARD RUN 159 
 
 fanee in two more downs, using a shift to the left 
 followed by a quarter-back plunge through the 
 opponent's short side that netted the needed five 
 yards and placed the pigskin almost on the home 
 team's thirty. There, however, Alton stiffened 
 and, after two attempts at the line, Lorimer faked 
 a forward and sent a half straight through be- 
 tween Nichols and Newhall for seven yards. With 
 three to go on fourth down, and the ball on the 
 twenty-two, Lorimer walked back and talked it 
 over. Then the stage was set for a placement 
 kick and the cheering and shouting ceased. 
 
 Followed a still, tense moment, broken only by 
 Hutch's imploring "Break through, Alton! Block 
 'it!" and the quarter's precise, slow signals. Back 
 went the ball, too high but straight enough, and 
 the quarter, kneeling on the turf behind the Lor- 
 imer line, caught it deftly, lowered it quickly to 
 earth and pointed it. Cries, warnings, the rasp- 
 ing of canvas against canvas, smothered gasps, 
 and the scene, so orderly an instant before, broke 
 into confusion. Alton tore through desperately, 
 shouldering, plunging, reaching into the path of 
 the ball. But the Lorimer full-back, deliberate to 
 the point of danger, swung his foot and the ball 
 Bailed off, barely above the charging foe, rising 
 slowly and turning lazily over and over on in its
 
 160 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 flight. There was a moment of suspense and 
 then a white-sweatered timekeeper swung his 
 hands above his head and Lorimer cheered wildly, 
 triumphantly! On the score-board an important 
 young Alton sophomore placed a glaring white 3. 
 
 Willard followed his teammates back to midfield 
 in silence. There wasn't much chatting just then, 
 although Hutch called cheerfully enough for a 
 score. There was less than six minutes remain- 
 ing, but that, Willard assured himself, was enough 
 time to win in. On the stand Alton was cheering 
 heartily, undismayed. Coach Cade was sending 
 in three new men : Johnston for Proctor at right 
 tackle, McLeod for Macon and Moncks for Coch- 
 ran. For a moment, seeing Moncks trotting on, 
 Willard 's heart sank, but it was Cochran's head- 
 guard that the newcomer donned. Martin had 
 done none so badly at tackle, but the position 
 was a strange one to him and he had had his bad 
 moments. 
 
 Lorimer kicked off and the battle began again. 
 The ball went to Moncks and Willard swung in 
 ahead and was joined by Hutchins and the three 
 went sweeping diagonally across the field. Then 
 Willard met an enemy and both sprawled, and 
 Linthicum darted away from the interference and 
 ran straight into the arms of a big Lorimer guard
 
 A FORTY-YARD RUN 161 
 
 The teams lined up in the twenty-four yards close 
 to the side-line. Hutch's heave to Joe Myers 
 went short, was tipped by a Lorimer end and fell 
 to the ground. On the next play, Willard, ball 
 hugged tight, swept around his own end behind 
 Hutch and Myers, dodged the opposing end, 
 turned in and dodged and twisted for eight yards 
 before he was dragged, still fighting hard, to 
 earth. Linthicum tried the right of the line and 
 lost a yard and Moncks made it first down past 
 tackle. A short forward over the line landed 
 safely in Joe Myers' hands for nine yards and 
 Willard added two through left guard. 
 
 Just short of the middle of the field, with the 
 minutes running fast, Hutch called for Forma- 
 tion C and the Alton line spread widely. Lorimer 
 edged out in answer. Willard, crouched behind 
 his left guard, looked straight ahead. Hutch 
 called his signals. Linthicum swung and ran 
 across the field to the left. Back shot the ball to 
 Hutch, five yards behind center. Lorimer charged, 
 coming through the wide gaps in the Alton line. 
 Hutch stepped back while Willard crossed in front 
 of him. Then came a short pass and the left half, 
 the ball snuggled in his right elbow, shot straight 
 into the line. Linthicum 's diversion had drawn 
 the Lorimer backfield from position, and Willard,
 
 162 LEFT HAT,F HAEMON 
 
 having dodged one slow-moving Lorimer forward, 
 found an open field for several yards. Then, how- 
 ever, the enemy closed about him and his race 
 seemed run. There was no interference to aid 
 him, for Hatch was down, and Moncks, having run 
 the end out, was far behind. McLeod made a des- 
 perate effort to get into the running, but Willard 
 was fleeter. He side-stepped a Lorimer half and 
 was momentarily free, and swung toward the 
 middle of the field as he crossed the enemy's 
 forty. Behind him raced friend and foe. He had 
 slipped through the worst of the opposition, but 
 ahead of him a determined quarter awaited and 
 from the left speeded a hall The latter Willard 
 scarcely feared, for he had a fair lead, but the 
 quarter spelled disaster. Nearer and nearer he 
 came to the latter, a smallish, hard-fighting youth 
 who held his distance grimly, only moving slightly 
 to the right as though anticipating Wfllard's in- 
 tention. The Alton stand was shouting wildly. 
 confusedly, but Willard had no knowledge of it. 
 The thumping of his heart and the rasping of his 
 breath seemed to be the only sounds in the world! 
 Then the supreme instant came. Close to the 
 thirty-yard line the enemies met. Something had 
 told Willard that the opponent was too knowing, 
 too quick and agile to be fooled by aide-stepping,
 
 A FOETY-YAKD RUN 163 
 
 and so, a few yards away, Willard shifted the 
 ball to his stomach, clasped both hands over it 
 and put his head down. Straight into the quarter 
 he charged, with every ounce of strength thrust- 
 ing his body forward. And as he charged he 
 twisted and spun. 
 
 Arms encompassed, his thighs and hands 
 clutched desperately, yet he found his stride again 
 and went forward. Something clung for a mo- 
 ment to one leg and he staggered, fell to a knee 
 and threw his body forward. The weight was 
 gone and he was on his feet again! He set his 
 straining eyes on the goal posts and struggled 
 forward. But now it seemed that his feet were 
 huge pieces of lead and his head swam dizzily. 
 Four strides, five, six, and again he felt the touch 
 of fingers that groped for a hold. Summoning 
 his remaining strength, he moved free, head back 
 and lungs bursting. He was past the fifteen-yard 
 line and the gray, padded posts wavered in the 
 sunlight, close at hand. But he was not to reach 
 them. 
 
 If Willard had run a good race, so, too, had the 
 Lorimer right half-back, and the latter had been 
 but a scant five yards away when Willard had 
 shaken himself free of the quarter's tackle. And 
 so, just short of the ten yards, the struggle ended.
 
 164 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 A last supreme effort and the pursuer 's arms 
 wrapped themselves around the quarry's legs. 
 One short stride followed and then pursued and 
 pursuer lay prone and unmoving across the lime 
 mark! 
 
 That ended Willard J s usefulness for that day, 
 just as it ended the usefulness of his captor, for 
 both boys were fairly run out. But the ball lay 
 well inside the ten yards, and Alton's cheers were 
 exultant and unceasing while the half-fainting 
 youths were administered to, Longstreth raced 
 out to replace Willard and Lorimer sent in a sub- 
 stitute right half. Willard saw the last three 
 minutes of the game from a pile of blankets at the 
 end of the bench, saw his teammates make three 
 gallant attempts to conquer those last stubborn 
 nine yards, saw, with a sinking heart, Moncks 
 stopped two yards from the line and hurled back, 
 saw Captain Myers walk determinedly back up 
 the field to kicking position. 
 
 Hopeless gloom shrouded the bench. Myers 
 was no goal kicker, and all knew it. Had there 
 been a single, solitary player out there who knew 
 the least thing about that art he would never have 
 attempted it. But substitution had deprived the 
 team of Cochran and Tarver and Macon, and none 
 of those who remained on the bench could be de-
 
 A FORTY- YARD RUN 165 
 
 pended on. When all was said and done, perhaps 
 Hutch might have chosen more wisely had he 
 risked a forward-pass on that final down. Yet 
 Hutch knew that Lorimer would be looking for 
 that play and knew that if it failed Alton's last 
 opportunity to score would be lost. And he 
 didn't make the choice unaided, for Joe Myers 
 counseled it. Joe said afterwards that he had 
 no more idea of booting the ball over than he had 
 of flying. Yet a more effortless, more perfect 
 drop-kick than he made would have been hard to 
 imagine! Straight between the uprights and 
 well over the cross-bar it sailed, and no one needed 
 the corroboration of the official's upthrown hands 
 to tell him that Alton had tied the score ! 
 
 And a tied score it remained when the final 
 whistle blew. 
 
 Alton showed as much delight over the drawn 
 battle as though she had won overwhelmingly, 
 and Lorimer, trying hard to smile, took what com- 
 fort she could. But if the School felt jubilant and 
 triumphant, it was plainly to be seen that Coach 
 Cade did not share its emotions. That game had 
 clearly demonstrated the fact, long suspected, 
 that the Gray-and-Gold backfield was far from the 
 scoring combination it should be. With Lake 
 playing left end, a position he had proved his fik
 
 166 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 ness for that afternoon, the left half-back posi- 
 tion was left to Mawson or Harmon. Each, while 
 he showed much promise, was inexperienced. 
 Cochran, on the other side, was steady but far 
 from brilliant. The full-back position was the 
 weakest spot of all. Neither Browne nor Linthi- 
 cum had the hard-fighting spirit needed. That 
 Alton had not met defeat was due to a flash of 
 cleverness on the part of Harmon and not to any 
 'dependable team-work by the backs. The coach, 
 while he appeared to be listening attentively 
 enough to Joe Myers' short-breathed remarks as 
 they walked together to the gymnasium, was in 
 reality grimly determining on a backfield shake 
 up when Monday arrived. 
 
 "If there 'd been anyone around him to put that 
 Lorimer half-back out,'* said Joe, "he'd have 
 made it easily." 
 
 "Who!" Mr. Cade asked blankly. 
 
 "Why, Brand Harmon! He made a corking 
 try, anyway!" 
 
 "Harmon? Yes, that's so," agreed the coach 
 thoughtfully. "Think it was an accident? Sup- 
 pose he could do it again?" 
 
 "He's got it in him," answered Joe con- 
 vincedly. "Give him a try, sir. I would." 
 
 "I think I shall," mused the other. "He cer- 
 tainly deserves it."
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 ONIONS ! 
 
 THEY went to the movies that evening, a jovial, 
 noisy "gang" of nearly a dozen that included the 
 "Three Guardsmen," Willard, Don Harris, Sta- 
 cey Ross, Cal Grainger and several more. Unfor- 
 tunately, the picture lacked action to a lamentable 
 degree, being largely concerned with the doings of 
 a few ladies and gentlemen who when at home, 
 which was infrequent, lived in large white marble 
 palaces in Westchester County, New York. At 
 least, the titles placed the scene of the story in 
 Westchester County, but Martin expressed incre- 
 dulity, asserting that he had never seen palmet- 
 toes and cocoanut palms growing in that locality 
 in such profusion. Jack Macon, however, was of 
 the opinion that "anyone as rich as those guys 
 could have their lawns trimmed with palms even 
 if they lived at the North Pole ! ' ' The hero was 
 a strapping gentleman with a broad, flat face, 
 large, limpid eyes and a very brief mustache. He 
 dressed immaculately on all occasions, which, 
 since he, like everyone else, was forever "week- 
 
 167
 
 168 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 ending" somewhere, must have caused him a 
 great deal of thought and care. Of course, he had 
 a Japanese valet at his beck and call, and that 
 probably helped. Don Harris declared that when 
 he became wealthy he would have a valet just like 
 the one in the picture. "Why," he marveled, 
 "that fellow doesn't even have to go to the tele- 
 phone. The valet pulls the thing out by the roots 
 and brings it to him wherever he is ! That's what 
 I call service!" 
 
 Paul Nichols, who had played center all 
 through the afternoon's game and who, conse- 
 quently, was rather tired, went sound asleep 
 somewhere about the third reel and snored loudly 
 until the final "fade-out," to the amusement of 
 his companions and the audience in general. 
 Martin expressed the fear, loudly enough to be 
 heard by Bob, several seats distant, that Nichols 
 had contracted the sleeping sickness from "one 
 of our number." The comedy that followed the 
 big picture provided a few "fine moments," but, 
 on the whole, the party considered that they had 
 wasted the evening. Nichols was aroused with 
 difficulty and led, in a comatose condition, up the 
 aisle and into the street where the brisk October 
 breeze that was hurrying and scurrying through 
 the little town awakened him more thoroughly.
 
 ONIONS! 169 
 
 Having missed most of the entertainment, Nichols 
 insisted on partaking of food and drink and, be- 
 ing in funds this evening, invited the party to 
 visit the lunch-cart. This vividly painted institu- 
 tion stood at night in the square at the other side 
 of town, a matter of twelve blocks in distance, but, 
 as Nichols pointed out, the night was still young. 
 So they set out, decorously joyous, along West 
 Street, "window shopping" as they went, and 
 turned down Meadow Street and finally reached 
 the Square and hailed the crimson and blue win- 
 dows of the "Owl Night Lunch" with shouts of 
 approval that won them the fleeting interest of 
 the single blue-coated guardian of the law on duty 
 there. Fortunately, since their numbers were 
 many, the lunch-cart held but a solitary patron, a 
 car conductor indulging in the delicacy referred 
 to on the wall as "Tonight's Special: Pork Chop 
 and Fried Onions, 30c." The viands had diffused 
 a perceptible fragrance through the establish- 
 ment, but no one voiced criticism save Martin. 
 M-Aiin halted at the doorway and registered sus- 
 picion followed by disgust. 
 
 "What's the matter?" asked Bob, behind him. 
 "Go on in!" 
 
 "Onions!" said Martin in pained tones. 
 
 "What of it?"
 
 170 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 "I can't stand 'em. Gee, the place is full of 
 ? em!" 
 
 "Well, you don't have to eat them," replied 
 Bob comfortingly, while those behind him earn- 
 estly requested "gangway!" Martin allowed 
 himself to be shoved inside, but during the sub- 
 sequent proceedings he wore his nose in an ele- 
 vated position and looked most unhappy, a cir- 
 cumstance that interested Bob greatly for a 
 reason not then apparent. Sandwiches and coffee 
 constituted the menu served. Bob generously of- 
 fered to buy Martin a chopped onion sandwich if 
 he would eat it, which offer was thanklessly, al- 
 most rudely, declined. That banquet cost Paul 
 Nichols most of his cash in hand, but he settled 
 the bill in an almost regal manner ; quite, as Mar- 
 tin commented, as though he lived amongst the 
 palms of Westchester ! 
 
 Going back, Willard walked with Joe and Jack 
 Macon, and the talk was mostly of the day's 
 game. Joe was rather cynical and predicted dis- 
 aster in the Kenly contest unless things goi uet- 
 ter soon. "We need beef on the team," said Joe 
 bitterly. "We've got plenty of fellows who know 
 football, but they're too lady-like, Jack. It 
 doesn't do to stop and apologize before you hit 
 the line or keel a chap over ! Kenly will bring a
 
 ONIONS! 171 
 
 lot of hard-hitting * rough-necks ' that'll make us 
 look like a parcel of 'co-eds'!" 
 
 "Oh, we aren't that bad," said Jack soothingly. 
 -'It's early yet " 
 
 "Early nothing! The season's half over! Gee, 
 we've got to learn to fight, Jack, or we'll get lit- 
 erally walked on!" 
 
 "Seems to me the backfield's a hit light, Joe." 
 
 "Of course it is, and it's lighter than ever since 
 Lake's gone to left end. We've got to find a full- 
 back, and find him mighty quick, and that's no 
 dream!" 
 
 "Too bad you couldn't land that fellow Har- 
 mon you were talking about," said Jack. Then 
 he turned in a puzzled way to Willard. "Say, 
 your name's Harmon, too, isn't it!" he exclaimed. 
 "That's odd!" 
 
 "Not very," said Joe hurriedly. "The Har- 
 mon I was after was Brand's brother. If we'd 
 got him we'd been fixed." 
 
 "What happened!" asked Jack. "I under- 
 stood it was all fixed up." 
 
 "Oh, he changed his mind," replied Joe care- 
 lessly. "Went into the Navy, didn't he, Brand?" 
 
 "Yes," corroborated Willard gravely. 
 
 "Too bad," murmured Jack. "Too bad you 
 aren't your brother, Harmon!"
 
 172 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "Well, Brand's doing pretty well where we had 
 him today," said Joe. 
 
 " Rather!" agreed the other. "He surely had 
 one fine moment this afternoon. If it hadn't been 
 for that Lorimer end or half which was he? 
 Half? well, if it hadn't been for him Harmon 
 would have scored in a romp ! ' ' 
 
 "That's the trouble with C Formation," replied 
 Joe. "If the runner does get away he has no 
 interference half the time. The end's supposed 
 to get free and go ahead, but he can't do it very 
 often. The more I think about today's game, fel- 
 lows, the more certain I am that we were mighty 
 lucky to break even ! Lorimer ought to have won 
 on the showing she made." 
 
 "Well, she didn't," answered Jack cheerfully. 
 "And results count." 
 
 Up ahead, Bob was questioning Martin regard- 
 ing the latter 's lack of enthusiasm for onions. 
 "What is it you don't like about them, Mart? The 
 taste or the smell or what?" 
 
 "I don't like either," said Martin. "Folks who 
 eat onions belong to a low order of humanity. 
 Criminals and idiots and such folks are always 
 fond of them, I've read." 
 
 "Where do you get that stuff?" asked Stacey 
 Ross. "Look at Garibaldi."
 
 ONIONS! 173 
 
 "Where?" asked Martin flippantly. 
 
 "Wasn't he a patriot and a man of brains and 
 and blameless life?" pursued Stacey. 
 
 "I guess so," assented Martin doubtfully. 
 
 "All right! Garibaldi invented onions, didn't 
 he?" 
 
 Martin viewed him suspiciously. "Well, maybe 
 he did, but I'll bet he didn't eat them! Carbol 
 invented carbolic acid, but he didn't drink it, 
 did he!" 
 
 "Garibaldi," remarked Bob gravely, "made 
 onions his principal diet: ate them three times 
 a day and fed his army on them!" 
 
 "Oh, well, he was an Italian," said Martin. 
 "I'm talking about folks in this country." 
 
 "George Washington invariably began the day 
 with a raw sliced onion," said Bob. "History 
 tells you that." 
 
 "Sure," asserted Stacey. "Wasn't it Wash- 
 ington who said 'In onion there is strength'?" 
 
 "You fellows make me weary," retorted Mar- 
 tin. "I'll bet you eat them yourselves! As I re- 
 marked hitherto, the onion is the favorite fruit 
 of the mentally deficient! And you fellows talk 
 like you never ate anything else ! ' ' 
 
 Stacey continued to expatiate on the merits of 
 the onion, but Bob relapsed into silence. He had
 
 174 LEFT HALF HARMON! 
 
 been visited by an idea and he was busy develop^ 
 ing it all the rest of the way back to school. When 
 he said good night to Martin later in front of 
 Lykes there was an expression on his face that 
 might have caused the other some uneasiness had 
 he noticed it. 
 
 "It's awfully funny," remarked Martin after; 
 dinner the next day, "but I can still taste those 
 onions, Brand." 
 
 "What onions?" asked Willard. 
 
 "In that lunch-cart last night. Taste the smell 
 of them, I mean. It's just as though I'd eaten 
 them myself. Gosh, I didn't enjoy my dinner a 
 bit, either. Everything seemed to smell of the 
 beastly things!" 
 
 "We didn't have onions at our table," said 
 Willard. 
 
 "Neither did we, but I'll swear I could almost 
 smell them! It's queer, but I simply can't stand 
 the smell of onions. It almost makes me sick. I 
 can go a little of it, of course, and I manage to 
 eat soups and things like that that are flavored 
 with onions, but I don't like them." 
 
 "Maybe there was onion in the gravy or some- 
 thing," Willard suggested. But Martin shook his 
 head. 
 
 Vlt isn't that. I guess I got my lungs full of
 
 ONIONS! 175 
 
 the smell last night. Funny thing is, though, that 
 it seems almost as if I could taste them!" 
 
 4 * You '11 get over it, ' ' Willard consoled. ' * Let 's 
 go for a walk. Maybe the air will do you good." 
 
 Later Martin confessed that the imaginary 
 onions bothered him less, but after supper the 
 trouble recurred, and he was fairly miserable and 
 wore a pained look all the evening. "I guess it's 
 dyspepsia," he confided to them in Bob's room. 
 "No matter what I eat, seems as if it was flavored 
 with onion. I ought never to go near the beastly 
 things." 
 
 "You must have a very delicate stomach," ob- 
 served Bob sympathetically. "I knew a fellow 
 once who was like you. He couldn't stand the 
 sight of garlic. He'd go a mile out of his way 
 so as not to have to pass by a garlic er grove, 
 illsed to get sick at the mere mention of the 
 word!" 
 
 "Is that so?" asked Martin with almost a sneer. 
 "What was his name!" 
 
 N 
 
 "His name? Why er Smith, Jack Smith: 
 Did you know him?" 
 
 "No, but I knew an awful liar once," answered 
 Martin stiffly. "His name wasn't Jack, though, it 
 was Robert." 
 
 Afterwards, back in the room and preparing
 
 176 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 for bed, Martin spoke earnestly of seeing a doctor 
 on the morrow if he didn't stop smelling onions 
 and even tasting them, and Willard said he; 
 thought it would be a very sensible thing to do^ 
 and was careful to hide his smile behind the jacket' 
 of his pajamas. In the morning, though, Martin 
 was quite himself again and told Willard he 
 guessed he'd imagined those onions. 
 
 But two hours later, returning to Number 16 
 for a book, Willard discovered a very pale and 
 unhappy Martin stretched out on the window-seat 
 with his head on the ledge and a chilling October 
 wind ruffling his locks. "Onions," groaned Mar- 
 tin in response to Willard 's concerned inquiry. 
 "I I've got them again, something fierce!" He 
 closed his eyes and shuddered. "Do you smell 
 them, Brand?" he asked weakly. 
 
 Willard sniffed the air and truthfully replied 
 that he didn't. Martin sighed dolorously. "I 
 can't make it out," he said. "I was all right this 
 morning until breakfast. Then, just as soon as I 
 got to the table it came back. Everything seemed 
 to smell of onions, and taste of 'em, too. Why, 
 even the coffee did!" 
 
 "I suppose you imagined it," murmured 
 Willard. 
 
 "I suppose so. No one else noticed it. I guess
 
 ONIONS! 177 
 
 I'll have to cut French. Tell Metcalfe I'm sick, 
 will you, Brand?" 
 
 "Yes, but why don't you take something?" 
 
 1 'What '11 I take?" groaned Martin. 
 
 "Soda-mint tablets are good, I think. Hot 
 water, too. Want me to get you some hot 
 water!" 
 
 Martin nodded weakly but gratefully, and Wik 
 lard went off to the lavatory and presently re- 
 turned with a tooth-mug filled with scalding-hot 
 water. As it was then time for a nine o'clock 
 recitation, he had to leave Martin sipping and 
 shuddering. When he next saw him, shortly be- 
 fore dinner, he was much better physically but in 
 poor mental condition. His disposition was ut- 
 terly vile. He put his tongue out and wagged it 
 accusingly at Willard. 
 
 "I burned my tongue," he said. "That water 
 was too blamed hot!" 
 
 "Too bad," replied Willard soothingly. "It 
 made you feel better, though, didn't it?" 
 
 "What if it did? What's the good of feeling 
 better if your tongue is all scalded?" Martin de- 
 manded huffily. "Why didn't you tell me?" 
 
 "Tell you what?" asked Willard indignantly. 
 "Not to burn your tongue, you simp?" 
 
 "Tell me it was so hot! HowM I know?"
 
 178 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "I thought maybe you could tell by the feel of 
 it," answered Willard dryly. "Most folks can!" 
 
 "Funny, aren't you?" Martin turned disgrunt- 
 edly to the window, and after a moment Willard 
 asked : 
 
 "Did you get to any classes?" 
 
 "Math," grunted the other. "I was too sick 
 for the rest of them. What time is it?" 
 
 "Nearly half -past. Coming along?" 
 
 "I don't believe I want any dinner. What's 
 the use? It'll just taste of of those things!" 
 
 "Onions?" asked Willard innocently. 
 
 "Shut up! Don't speak of 'em!" yelled Mar- 
 tin. "Now you've made me all squirmy again!" 
 He sank to the window-seat, placed anxious hands 
 on his waistcoat and glared at Willard accusingly. 
 "I was feeling all right, too!" 
 
 "Well, how did I know you didn't want me to 
 say " 
 
 "Cut it out, I tell you!" 
 
 "I wasn't going to say on " 
 
 "You're saying it!" shrieked Martin. "I hope 
 you get it, too! When you do, I'll say 'onions' 
 to you! You see if I don't!" 
 
 "You just said it yourself," said Willard, grin- 
 ning. 
 
 "That's different." Martin glared fero-
 
 ONIONS! 179 
 
 ciously. " You 're just trying to make me sick 
 again ! ' * 
 
 "Oh, be good," answered the other humoringly. 
 "Tell you what I'll do, Mart. I'll go over to the 
 drug store and get you some soda-mints right 
 after dinner." 
 
 Martin looked slightly mollified for an instant. 
 Then he asked suspiciously: "Do they taste 
 awful?" 
 
 "N no, not very. Come along to dinner. 
 You'd better try to eat something, even if you 
 don't feel hungry." 
 
 "Well, all right, but I know I can't eat."
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 MAKTIN CALLS QUITS 
 
 FROM his own table, by craning his neck, Willard 
 could see Martin's, and it was apparent that the 
 latter was not making much of a meal. Bob, who 
 sat at his left, was plainly sympathetic and solic- 
 itous : Willard could see Bob passing the spinach 
 and urging his neighbor to eat, and could see 
 Martin's dismal refusal. Perhaps it was because 
 Martin partook only of a little soup and a dish 
 of rice pudding that the malady returned to him 
 less severely after the noon meal. Willard kept 
 his promise and procured a small bottle of soda- 
 mint tablets, and all the rest of the day Martin's 
 expression was one of supreme disgust as he 
 continuously dissolved the tablets in his mouth. 
 The remedy at least allowed him to take an active 
 part in practice, which was fortunate since he 
 was given a try-out at left tackle. He was a bit 
 slow at first, but, with Mr. Cade constantly urg- 
 ing, he showed quite a lot of speed toward the 
 end of the practice. He confessed to Willard 
 
 180
 
 MARTIN CALLS QUITS 181 
 
 later that he might have done better if the onion 
 smell hadn't bothered him. "It came on in the 
 locker room," he said. "I didn't notice it until 
 I was changing. Then I got it strong and it 
 stayed with me all the time. I I get it yet, but 
 it's not so bad." 
 
 "It must be your imagination," said Willard. 
 "Ever troubled like this before? I say, Mart, 
 there isn't isn't any" 
 
 "Any what?" 
 
 "Well, any er insanity in your family, is 
 there?" 
 
 "Don't be a silly fool!" begged Martin. 
 
 "I just thought that maybe" 
 
 "Listen here, Brand! There's no imagination 
 about it. I've been poisoned." 
 
 "Poisoned!" gasped Willard. Martin nodded 
 gravely. 
 
 "Yes, I've got it all doped out. I've been onion 
 poisoned." 
 
 "But onions aren't aren't poisonous," expos- 
 tulated Willard. 
 
 "Maybe not to some folks, but they are to me," 
 Martin spoke with conviction. "What happened 
 is just this. That night we went to the lunch- 
 cart the place was full of onion odor. Remember ?. 
 Well, I breathed a lot of it into my system and it
 
 182 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 poisoned me. It's in my blood probably. If I'm 
 not all right tomorrow I'm going to see a 
 doctor." 
 
 Willard considered the theory for a moment and 
 then gravely acknowledged that there might be 
 something in it. 
 
 ''You bet there is," Martin assured him. 
 "Why, it stands to reason. Look what chloro- 
 form does. It gets into your blood when you in- 
 hale it, doesn't it? Well, it's the same way with 
 onions. Some folks aren't affected by it, but I'm 
 different. I guess a doctor would be mighty in- 
 terested in my case." Martin paused to consider 
 the idea and then went on proudly. "Yes, sir, 
 I'll bet he would! I'll bet he'd write about me to 
 the the medical association!" 
 
 U I dare say," assented Willard. "Maybe it 
 would get in the New York papers, too. 'Pois- 
 oned by Onions! Strange Case of Young Pre- 
 paratory School Student Puzzles the Medical 
 Fraternity!' Maybe they'd print your picture, 
 Mart." 
 
 "You can make a silly joke of it if you like," 
 said Martin, "but I'll bet I'm right!" 
 
 Joe and Bob came up to the room that night 
 and Martin explained his theory again for their 
 benefit. He was undergoing another visitation of
 
 MARTIN CALLS QUITS 183 
 
 the onion malady, but interest in his case and in 
 his solution of it gave him strength to bear up 
 better than usual. Joe and Bob Bob especially 
 were tremendously impressed with the theory 
 and Bob recalled having read of a similar case. 
 ''Only," he said, "in that case the man had been 
 poisoned by eating watercress." 
 
 "Eating what?" asked Martin incredulously. 
 
 "Watercress," repeated Bob. "It doesn't af- 
 fect most people, but some fellows can't eat it at 
 all. You've heard that, haven't you, Joe?" 
 
 "Yes," Joe assented soberly. "I had a cousin 
 like that. Watercress and strawberries were like 
 poison to him." 
 
 Martin looked from Joe to Bob suspiciously, 
 but they were so evidently in earnest that he 
 asked: "What happened to this fellow?" 
 
 "Why, he ate watercress and was poisoned. It 
 got into his blood, you know, and the only way 
 they could save his life was by transfusion." 
 
 "What's that? You mean pumping someone 
 else's blood into him?" 
 
 "Sure! That's the only thing possible in ex- 
 treme cases." 
 
 Martin hurriedly produced his bottle and 
 popped a soda-mint into his mouth. "Well, I 
 guess onions wouldn't do that to a fellow," he
 
 184 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 said with a confidence that didn't quite ring true. 
 "Would you think so, Joe?" 
 
 " Search me," replied Joe comfortingly. "I 
 never heard of onion poisoning before." 
 
 "Nor I," said Bob troubledly. "I guess it's a 
 pretty rare disease, and maybe the doctors don't 
 understand it yet. Guess it's sort of like sleep- 
 ing sickness," he added blandly. 
 
 Martin shot a hostile and wary look at him, but 
 Bob only smiled sympathetically and reached out 
 his hand. "Let's see one of those tablets, Mart," 
 he requested. "I've got a sort of a heavy feeling 
 myself tonight." 
 
 "You don't notice the taste of onions, do you?" 
 asked Martin hopefully as he tossed the bottle 
 across the table. 
 
 "N no, not exactly. More a sort of gone sen- 
 sation. I guess it was the baked potato I ate." 
 He took some time to get a tablet out, under 
 cover of the table; so long that Martin said im* 
 patiently: "Shake the bottle. They're probably 
 stuck. ' ' 
 
 "I've got it, thanks." Bob popped a tablet 
 into his mouth, made a wry face, screwed the 
 cover on the bottle again and tossed it back. 
 "Nasty tasting things, aren't they?" he asked. 
 
 "You get used to them after awhile," replied
 
 MARTIN CALLS QUITS 185 
 
 Martin consolingly. "I guess I've eaten twenty 
 of them today. When you have blood trans . 
 whatever it is, Bob, how do you do it? I mean, 
 where do you get the blood?" 
 
 "Advertise, I think. It isn't easy, of course, 
 because the other fellow, the one who gives the 
 new blood, has to be pretty healthy. Lots 
 of times you can't find anyone and it's no 
 use." 
 
 "What happens then?" inquired Martin un- 
 easily. 
 
 Bob shrugged. "The patient dies, of course. 
 You hear of it very often." 
 
 Martin gulped and almost swallowed his tablet. 
 "Gee! I guess I'd find someone if I had to," he 
 said. "Maybe, though, it'& more imagination 
 than anything with me. You know you can im- 
 agine all sorts of things, and I guess onions 
 wouldn't be very hard, eh?" 
 
 "N no," said Joe, "but I have a hunch that 
 you're theory is about right, Mart. It certainly 
 sounds mighty reasonable to me." 
 
 "I don't see how you make that out," replied 
 Martin shortly. "If it was really a case of of 
 being poisoned I guess I'd be a lot worse now than 
 I am. It's been going on two days, and anyone 
 knows that poison acts pretty quick."
 
 186 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "Some poisons," answered Bob significantly. 
 "But there are others that act er very slowly. 
 There's hemp, for instance." 
 
 " That's a rope," said Martin derisively. 
 
 "It's a very deadly poison," said Bob 
 sternly, "and it's very very what's the word, 
 Joe?" 
 
 "Lingering?" asked Joe. 
 
 "Insidious," suggested Willard. 
 
 "Insidious, that's it! Sometimes the patient 
 suffers for weeks." 
 
 "Well, I haven't eaten any hemp," said Martin 
 crossly. "I haven't eaten anything, confound it! 
 I'm mighty near starved! Maybe that's what the 
 trouble is. If it wasn't so late I'd go out and get 
 a sandwich or a piece of pie or something." 
 
 "What you need is hearty food," said Bob. "A 
 nice steak and onions, for instance." 
 
 "Shut up! I hope you choke!" Martin fairly 
 gibbered. "I wish you had it! I wish you 
 all had it, you gang of grinning apes! You 
 make me sick!" In proof of the latter 
 assertion he shuddered violently, hurriedly pro- 
 duced his bottle of soda-mint tablets and, keep- 
 ing his lips very tightly closed, agitatedly un- 
 screwed the top. The others watched with al- 
 most painful intensity. Martin inverted the bot-
 
 MAETIN CALLS QUITS 187. 
 
 tie, seized a tablet and popped it into his mouth* 
 Instantly a strange, haunted look came over his 
 face. He swallowed once, his eyes round and 
 alarmed, and then the tablet came out of his mouth 
 even quicker than it had gone in and he laid hands 
 on his stomach and closed his eyes. 
 
 "What is it!" asked Bob anxiously. "Feeling 
 sick, Mart?'* 
 
 "Sick! I I'm dying! They-they're full of 
 it!" 
 
 "What are? Full of what?" asked Joe. 
 
 "The tablets." Martin opened his eyes slowly, 
 and gazed in horror at the questioner. "They're 
 full of of onion! Oh, gee!" 
 
 "Nonsense," said Bob cheerfully. "How could 
 they be? Let's see them." Martin weakly 
 brought them forth from his pocket and held them 
 out with averted head. Bob removed the lid and 
 held the bottle to his nose. "I don't smell any- 
 thing," he said. "Do you, Brand?" 
 
 "Not a thing," replied Willard gravely. "You 
 try, Joe." 
 
 "Well, there's a faint ah medicinal odor 
 apparent," said Joe judicially, "but as for 
 onions" 
 
 "Let me smell," demanded Martin. He took 
 the bottle and put it to his nostrils. Then it went
 
 188 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 flying across the room and its contents rolled 
 merrily about the floor. "It is!" he yelled. 
 "They are! Can't you fellows smell it?" 
 
 "Look here, Martin," responded Joe sternly. 
 "You'd better pull yourself together, old man. 
 It won't do to let this this hallucination go too 
 far. Better get into bed and try to forget about 
 onions. Maybe a good night's rest is what you 
 need. In the morning I'd have a talk with the 
 doctor. Of course your trouble may not be seri- 
 ous, Mart. I dare say if you take it in time you 
 can be cured. But I'd feel a whole lot easier if 
 you saw a doctor, old man." 
 
 Martin's expression of glowering distaste 
 changed slightly. He stared in growing fascina- 
 tion at Bob. 
 
 "It might be," continued the latter kindly, 
 "that you've been bitten by the Diptera onion- 
 ensis, otherwise known as the onion-fly. Of 
 course, it isn't probable, but you never can tell, 
 Mart. There's the tse-tse fly, now. You wouldn't 
 expect to find that around here, but I've been 
 told that it is quite common. Then why not the 
 onion-fly?" 
 
 Martin's gaze was fixed on Bob and Martin's 
 mouth was slowly dropping open. He was like 
 pne who is seeing a Great Light and who is still
 
 MARTIN CALLS QUITS 189 
 
 too dazed by its refulgence for speech. Bob 
 smiled gently and continued, keeping, however, 
 perhaps unintentionally, the table between him 
 and Martin. 
 
 4 'You've been so awfully sympathetic about my 
 sleeping sickness, Mart, that I just can't bear to 
 see you troubled like this. It would certainly be 
 a load off my mind if you'd just talk things over 
 with the doctor " 
 
 "You did it!" hissed Martin. "You you 
 played a trick on me!" 
 
 "Why, Mart," protested Bob in hurt tones. 
 "How can you sit there and say them cruel 
 words t" 
 
 Martin glared wildly about him. Joe was so 
 entirely overcome by some emotion that he had 
 his head in his hands and Willard was gasping, 
 perhaps with pain, his countenance hidden behind 
 a propped-up book. Martin swallowed hard once, 
 drew his feet beneath him and then was out of his 
 chair with a roar. 
 
 "I'll onion you!" he shouted. "Pll I'll " 
 
 Around the table they plunged, hurdling Joe's 
 legs, since that youth was too helpless to draw 
 them back, twirling Willard around in his chair 
 like a chip in a maelstrom as they passed, Bob a 
 half circuit to the good at the end of each lap.
 
 190 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 Noise and confusion reigned supreme, but through 
 it came Bob's voice, made faint by laughter: 
 
 "For the love of Mike, Mart, use discretion!" 
 
 Martin's invariable reply was a savage howl 
 of wrath. 
 
 On the tenth circuit or perhaps it was the 
 eleventh! disaster overtook the pursued. Bob 
 slipped coming into the backstretch and went 
 down, and Martin hurled himself on him. Over 
 and over they went, grunting, gasping, gurgling. 
 ^Willard rescued the lamp just before the table 
 went over on top of the battlers, showering them 
 with books and papers. Had Bob been in his 
 best form that contest would have been brief, for 
 he was bigger and stronger than his antagonist, 
 but laughter drugged him and before he could cry 
 for mercy Martin had thumped his head many 
 times on the rug and jounced merrily up and down 
 on his ribs. When, at last, Martin drew off and 
 Bob climbed weakly to his feet the room was a 
 wreck and over the scene hung, like a horrible 
 miasma, the sickening concentrated odor of 
 onions ! 
 
 Martin sniffed and would have flung himself on 
 Bob again if the latter had not pointed beseech- 
 ingly to the floor. Martin looked and picked up 
 the stoppered remains of a broken bottle. To it
 
 MAETIN CALLS QUITS 191 
 
 elung a paper label. "Onion Extract," he read. 
 
 When peace, if not complete order, had been 
 restored Bob confessed. "I gave you fair warn- 
 ing, Mart," he said. "I told you I'd get even. 
 Trouble with you is you think you invented jok- 
 ing and that no one else can get away with it. I 
 got the idea that night when you turned up your 
 nose at the onions in the lunch-cart. I paid the 
 cook a quarter for that bottle of onion extract 
 and the rest was easy. All I had to do was get 
 to table long enough ahead of you to drop a little 
 of the stuff around : on your napkin, in your por- 
 ridge, in your salt-cellar and so on. I was clever 
 enough not to be too generous with it, you know- 
 Once, when you were looking the other way, I 
 got some on your meat, and another time in your 
 coffee. Yesterday I sprinkled a good big lot on 
 your football togs. Maybe you noticed it?" 
 
 Martin said: "Hm!" grimly. 
 
 "I tried to get Brand to put some on your 
 toothbrush and your pillow, but he was too tender- 
 hearted," added Bob. Martin turned a sorrow- 
 fully accusing look on Willard. "And that's 
 that," Bob ended, smilingly. 
 
 "Huh," said Martin this time, scornfully. "I 
 knew all along it was just some silly joke!" 
 
 "Oh, no, you didn't, pettie! Anyhow, we'll
 
 192 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 call it quits now if you like. I'm satisfied if you 
 are. Only, Mart, no more 'tse-tse flies' and 
 'sleeping sickness' stuff. My health is very good, 
 thank you, and if you want a place on the team, 
 son, you get out and earn it ! " 
 
 "Oh, that's all right, Bob," answered Martin, 
 grinning. "Johnny told me today I was to play 
 left tackle after this. So I don 't care whether you 
 have sleeping sickness or not!" Then, after a 
 perceptible pause, he added: "Much!"
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 DIPLOMACY 
 
 MARTIN'S statement that he had been assigned to 
 left tackle position was not believed very implic- 
 itly that night, although, in the press of other 
 matters demanding discussion, none expressed 
 doubt. But the next day proved that Martin had 
 spoken no more than the truth, for when the 
 scrimmage commenced he was in Leroy's place, 
 and there he stayed not only for the rest of the 
 day but for the rest of the season. At left half, 
 Willard and Mawson each served, the latter 
 yielding to Willard near the end of the practice. 
 The second team managed a field-goal that after- 
 noon, but the first scored three touchdowns and 
 for once showed plenty of punch. 
 
 With Lake at left end and Martin Proctor at 
 left tackle, that side of the line improved re- 
 markably. For a few days Martin fitted none too 
 perfectly into the new position, but he had had 
 much experience, wanted badly to be something 
 better than a second-choice player and worked 
 
 193
 
 194 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 hard, with the result that long before the Kenly 
 game he was looked on as a remarkably good 
 tackle. The weak spot in the team continued, 
 however, for no satisfactory alternative to Steve 
 Browne had been found. Browne tried pitifully 
 hard to fill the difficult requirements of the full- 
 back position, but he failed utterly and palpably. 
 Linthicum was tried, and so was Austen, a half- 
 back from the second, but none suited. Kenly 
 was developing a stiff line this year, as proved 
 by the last two games she had played, and more 
 weight and aggressiveness in the backfield was 
 sorely needed at Alton. Discounting his possible 
 ultimate failure to find a satisfactory full-back, 
 Coach Cade experimented with plays built on the 
 substituting of Bob Newhall or Stacey Ross for 
 a half or the full-back. The difficulty, however, 
 lay in the fact that the backfield man who played 
 up in the line found it hard to perform his tem- 
 porary duties satisfactorily. Placing Bob at full- 
 back for straight plunges between tackles worked 
 fairly well and was accountable for some good 
 gains against the second team, but Browne in 
 Bob's place was as ill-fitting as a square peg in a 
 round hole and would doubtless prove in Captain 
 Joe Myers' words, "easy meat" for Kenly. 
 Coach Cade had a strongly-imbedded dislike for
 
 DIPLOMACY 195 
 
 unbalanced formations, anyhow, and, although he 
 used shifts sparingly and was responsible for the 
 play that put Captain Myers behind the line so 
 that he might receive a forward-pass, he wanted 
 no more "freaks" and frowned on these new in- 
 ventions even while he used them. And so mat- 
 ters stood on that Wednesday morning preced- 
 ing the Hillsport game when Willard, having a 
 whole fifty minutes between recitations, took a 
 Latin book over to the first base bleachers and 
 draped himself over three seats in the sunlight. 
 It was a genuine Indian summer day, with no 
 breeze, or only just enough to disturb the straight 
 column of smoke that came from the big chimney 
 behind Lawrence Hall, a very blue sky that melted 
 to a hazy, purplish gray toward the horizon and 
 a flood of mellow sunlight over all. By occasion- 
 ally changing his position when the edges of the 
 planks pressed too fervently against him, Willard 
 managed a whole page of his book, making many 
 marginal notes in his very small and extremely 
 neat writing. He was, though, getting somewhat 
 drowsy when the sound of footsteps came to him 
 and he looked up to find Felix McNatt approach- 
 ing. McNatt had soiled hands and wore a tri- 
 umphant expression, and both were explained 
 when, having climbed to Willard 's side and seated
 
 196 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 himself there, he lifted the wooden lid of the 
 grape basket he carried. 
 
 "Agaricus pratensis," he announced impres- 
 sively. 
 
 "The same to you,'* answered Willard, "and 
 many, many of them." 
 
 McNatt smiled humoringly. "I found them 
 over near the farm. They are rather scarce about 
 here." 
 
 Willard eyed the contents of the basket un- 
 enthusiastically. The five mushrooms made very 
 little appeal to him and he hoped McNatt wasn't 
 going to ask him to help eat them. "Are they 
 edible?" he asked anxiously. 
 
 "Oh, yes, although my book says they're not 
 so tasty as many other sorts." 
 
 "They don't look awfully appetizing," mur- 
 mured Willard. "Do you cook them or 
 what?" 
 
 "They're excellent fried," replied McNatt, 
 gazing almost affectionately into the basket. "Or 
 you can stew them in milk." 
 
 "No, thanks." Willard shook his head. "I 
 don't like the smell of them. They they smell 
 as if they were dead!" 
 
 "Of course they're dead," said McNatt a trifle 
 impatiently. "Or I suppose they are. Possibly
 
 DIPLOMACY 197 
 
 they continue to live for a certain time after they 
 are picked: I must find out about that: it would 
 be interesting to know." 
 
 "Very," agreed Willard politely. "Are you 
 going to eat them?" 
 
 To his great relief, McNatt shook his head. 
 "No, there aren't enough to make a mess." 
 
 "Aren't there? I should think those would 
 make a mess all right, a beastly mess!" 
 
 McNatt smiled, even chuckled. "I fancy you 
 aren't a mushroom lover," he said. "You wait, 
 though. Some time I'll get a fine lot of puff-balls 
 and we'll have a feast. You'll change your mind 
 then." 
 
 "Maybe I'll change more than that," said Wil- 
 lard sadly. "Maybe I'll change my habitation. 
 Lots of folks have gone to heaven after eating 
 mushrooms, haven't they?" 
 
 "No, not mushrooms," said McNatt, "toad- 
 stools. There's a difference." He covered the 
 basket again, set it carefully between his feet and 
 gazed in silence for a moment across the field. 
 Presently: "You are on the football team, aren't 
 you?" 
 
 "Yes," said Willard, "sort of. I'm a substi- 
 tute half." 
 
 "What sort of a team have we got this year?"
 
 198 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "Pretty fair, I think. Haven't you seen them 
 play?" 
 
 "I saw part of the first game, but you can't 
 tell much about a team so early. I haven't fol- 
 lowed it very closely since then." 
 
 "Well, we're sort of getting together, I guess," 
 said Willard. "There have been a good many 
 changes made and so the team isn't playing to- 
 gether awfully smoothly yet. Mr. Cade's having 
 a lot of trouble finding a full-back." 
 
 "A full-back? Is that so?" McNatt seemed 
 rather more interested than previously. "What's 
 wrong there, Harmon?" 
 
 Willard explained as best he could and McNatt 
 nodded assent. "He's right," he declared. "To 
 my way of thinking the full-back is the most im- 
 portant man on the team. He's got to be strong 
 and clever and have enough weight to carry him 
 through the first defense. I don't bank much on 
 the very heavy sort, though. They generally lack 
 the proper mental attributes. Do you know, Har- 
 mon, it's strange to me that scientists have never 
 made a thorough study of the relation of mind 
 quality to body formation. Now take a type of 
 fellow who is big of torso and neck; large above 
 the waist, you understand; probably he will have 
 a large head, too ; most of them do. That f ellow;
 
 DIPLOMACY 199 
 
 'will be a persistent, hard fighter when he's started 
 and he will have good sound judgment. But he 
 won't be resourceful and he won't be capable of 
 quick decision. See what I mean? I believe 
 that a thorough study of the subject would enable 
 anyone to tell a man's mental character off-hand 
 by observing his physical construction." 
 
 "You'd better come out this afternoon and look 
 over the substitutes," laughed Willard. " Maybe 
 you could pick out a full-back for Mr. Cade." 
 
 "Full-backs," answered McNatt solemnly, "are 
 very scarce. Good ones, I mean. I remember that 
 when I played here two or three years ago it was 
 difficult to find a satisfactory substitute." 
 
 "It isn't a substitute that's bothering this 
 year," said Willard ruefully, "it's the real thing. 
 Where did you play, McNatt f I mean what po- 
 sition. ' ' 
 
 "Full-back," answered the other gravely. 
 
 "Full-back!" 
 
 "Yes, I played there my first year off and on, 
 although I was only fifteen. I was large for my 
 age, though. The next year I played the position 
 until I was taken sick. After that I sort of fell 
 out of the game. Well, I must get back." He 
 picked up his basket, nodded and went striding 
 toward Upton.
 
 200 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 Willard watched him go thoughtfully. After 
 a minute, though, he tucked his pencil into a 
 pocket, seized his book and hurried across to 
 Lykes. Luck was with him when he knocked at 
 Number 2 and entered. Joe was propped up on 
 the window-seat, half hidden by a newspaper. 
 
 " Hello, Brand," he said. " What's on your 
 mind?" 
 
 "More than is on yours, I guess," answered 
 Willard meaningly. 
 
 Joe laughed. " Think so? Well, that's the first 
 paper I've seen in a week. I was looking over 
 the Saturday games. Yale's coming back all 
 right, isn't she? That fellow Loughlin who played 
 left tackle for awhile is an Alton fellow. Wasn't 
 considered much good here, though, as I re- 
 member." 
 
 "Say, Joe, suppose a fellow played football this 
 year and then didn't play for two years more. 
 Would he be any good?" 
 
 "Good for what?" 
 
 "Football. I mean, could he could he come 
 back?" 
 
 "Oh! I don't know, Brand. I guess it would 
 depend on the fellow. Aren't thinking of giving 
 up the game, are you?" 
 
 "No. Look here, Joe, suppose a fellow was a
 
 DIPLOMACY 201 
 
 corking good full-back three years ago and then 
 didn't play any more. Suppose he was to go back 
 to the game tomorrow. How long would it take 
 him to to remember what he'd forgotten and 
 and find himself again?" 
 
 " Brand, it's too early in the day for hypothet- 
 ical questions," replied Joe, stretching and 
 yawning. "It would depend on so many things, 
 boy : on how well the chap had kept himself in con- 
 dition, principally. Got any fellow in mind, or 
 are you just doing this for exercise?" 
 
 "I've got someone in mind," .answered Wil- 
 lard earnestly. "There's a chap here who used 
 to play football three years ago, and from what 
 he says he must have been pretty good. Any- 
 way, he was regular full-back on the team. Then 
 he was taken sick and had to quit, and he never 
 went back." 
 
 "Who's that?" demanded Joe, sitting up. 
 
 "McNatt," answered Willard. 
 
 "McNatt! Oh, I thought you'd discovered 
 someone, Brand. I guess McNatt 's a joke." 
 
 "He did play, though, didn't he?" Willard 
 persisted. 
 
 Joe nodded. "Yes, he did, and that's a fact." 
 He paused and kicked thoughtfully at the paper 
 on the floor. "He played all one year, I think,
 
 202 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 either on the second or on the first as substitute. 
 The first year I was here he played for awhile. 
 That was his second year. Seems to me he 
 stopped about the middle of the season. I don't 
 remember much about him, though. But, great 
 gosh, the fellow's no football man! Just just 
 look at him!" 
 
 "He's out of training, of course," agreed Wil- 
 lard, "but seems to me if he was good enough to 
 be regular full-back three years ago he might be 
 worth trying now." 
 
 "That's so, Brand! Look here, you tell him to 
 come on out and we'll give him a fair show, as 
 late as it is. It would be worth a dollar of any 
 fellow's money to see McNutt playing football!" 
 
 Willard shook his head. "I'm not sure he'd 
 do it, Joe." 
 
 "Why not? What's the idea!" 
 
 "Well, I don't believe he cares for it any more. 
 He's a funny duck, McNatt. I guess it would 
 take a lot of persuasion to get him back." 
 
 "But I thought from what you said that he 
 wanted to try it," said Joe, puzzled. "What does 
 he want?" 
 
 "To be let alone, I think," answered Willard, 
 smiling. "No, the idea was mine, Joe. McNatt 
 hasn't any more ambition to play football than
 
 DIPLOMACY 203 
 
 I have to to collect mushrooms! But when he 
 told me about having played full-back I remem- 
 bered that we are hard up for a fellow for that 
 position, and so I came over here to speak to you 
 about it." 
 
 "Well, dog my cats," exploded Joe, "if the 
 fellow can play football it's his duty to do it! 
 Doesn't he know that? Where is he? I'll have 
 a talk with him. I don't suppose he's worth both- 
 ering with, but there's always a chance! And 
 we can't afford to miss it!" 
 
 "What are you going to say to him?" asked 
 Willard. 
 
 "Say to him? Why, that we need his services, 
 of course. I'll tell him that if he shows up de- 
 cently he will stand a good chance of playing 
 against Kenly. I guess that ought to fetch him." 
 
 "That might 'fetch some fellows, Joe, but I'm 
 afraid it wouldn't fetch McNatt." Willard shook 
 his head gently. "I may be wrong, but I guess 
 he's about as stubborn as they make them. You 
 know you can tell a lot about a fellow's er 
 character by his physical formation, Joe, and Mc- 
 Natt 's got long legs and and everything." 
 
 "I don't know what you're talking about," an- 
 swered the other impatiently, "but, stubborn or 
 not, he will play football if I get after him!"
 
 204 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "All right." Willard shrugged his shoulders. 
 "If I were you, though, I'd go at him sort of 
 easy." 
 
 "Oh, I'll be easy enough," said Joe untrou- 
 bledly. "He's in Upton, isn't he? What's the 
 number? Forty-nine!" Joe looked at his watch 
 and got to his feet. "I've got twenty minutes be- 
 fore French. I'll run over and see him. Of 
 course nothing will come of it, though. A fellow 
 who's been out of training as long as he has can't 
 come back in three or four weeks. Besides, I 
 dare say he's forgotten all the football he ever 
 knew." 
 
 Willard parted with Joe at the entrance. "Good 
 luck, ' ' he called as Joe went off. * ' Try diplomacy 
 first, Joe!" 
 
 Joe smiled back confidently and waved a care- 
 less hand. 
 
 It was not until he reached the gymnasium in 
 the afternoon that Willard learned the result of 
 Joe's visit to Number 49 Upton. Joe was still 
 angry. "The fellow's a perfect fool," he snapped 
 in reply to Willard 's polite inquiry. "And he's 
 as stubborn as a mule ! Sat there and talked for 
 ten minutes about how the full-back position 
 ought to be played and then calmly told me he
 
 DIPLOMACY 205 
 
 wouldn't try for the team for a thousand 
 dollars!" 
 
 "And then you bullied him," laughed Willard. 
 
 "I told him what I thought of him," answered 
 Joe grimly. ''He made me so blamed mad I 
 could have punched his head. Just sat there and 
 blinked and shook his silly bean! And when I'd 
 flayed him alive he wanted to know if I wouldn't 
 like to see his mineral collection. Oh, the chap's 
 plain nutty!" 
 
 "He is sort of peculiar," agreed Willard 
 soberly. 
 
 "Peculiar!" Joe laughed mirthlessly. "He's 
 crazy in the head. Know what I think? Well, he 
 showed me a lot of mushrooms he had there; 
 nasty, smelly things they were, too; and I'll bet 
 he eats 'em and they've affected his mind. I 
 don't know what to do with him!" 
 
 "Guess you'll have to forget it and just let him 
 alone," said Willard soothingly. 
 
 "I can't afford to let him alone," protested Joe 
 impatiently. "Why, gosh, if that fellow can play 
 full-back the way he can talk it he 'd be a wonder ! 
 Look here, Brand, you see what you can do. I 
 talked my head off and it didn't have any effect 
 on the poor fish. You you have a go at him, 
 will jou? And do it today. Honest, that fellow
 
 206 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 ought to show whether he's any good or not. It's 
 his duty! Of course we can't make him play, but 
 you'd think he'd want to!" 
 
 "All right," agreed Willard, "I'll see what I 
 can do, Joe, but I haven't much hope. If your 
 diplomacy failed, why, I'm not likely to succeed." 
 
 Joe looked at Willard suspiciously. "Hang it, 
 I was diplomatic," he protested. "I was as sweet 
 as sugar to him until he shut his mouth tight and 
 said he wouldn't do it." 
 
 "If he had his mouth shut," said Willard, "I 
 don't see how he could say anything, Joe. Maybe 
 he hummed it, though?" 
 
 "Oh, go to the dickens!" growled the other. 
 
 There was an unusually hard and protracted 
 practice game that afternoon, and Willard played 
 at left half through fifteen strenuous minutes 
 during which the second, given the ball over and 
 over to test the first team's defense, hammered 
 and banged until she finally got across the line 
 for a score. Willard, like most of the others, got 
 some hard knocks and when he was released he 
 felt very little ambition for the task that Joe had 
 set him. But supper helped a lot, and at half- 
 past seven he set out for McNatt's room. Even 
 when he knocked at the door of Number 49 he 
 hadn't decided what he was to say.
 
 DIPLOMACY 207 
 
 Not only McNatt was in this evening, but his 
 roommate, Winfred Fuller. Fuller was a sopho- 
 more, a smallish, anemic-appearing youth who, or 
 so Willard fancied, wore a harried, apprehensive 
 look, as though life with McNatt 's toads and 
 beetles and strange messes was gradually affect- 
 ing his mind. Fuller sat, straightly uncompro- 
 mising, on the edge of a chair and gazed at Wil- 
 lard with owlish fixity during the first ten min- 
 utes of the latter 's visit, and Willard was heart- 
 ily glad when, muttering some excuse, the boy took 
 himself off. McNatt was most hospitable and 
 offered to cook a few choice mushrooms that he 
 had picked that afternoon under someone 's stable 
 if Willard fancied them. But Willard explained 
 that, being on a diet, mushrooms were a forbid- 
 den luxury, and McNatt was not offended. After 
 that the talk turned to the subject of football 
 "situations" and McNatt was reminded that he 
 had found the memorandum of which he had 
 spoken on the occasion of Willard 's last visit, and 
 stretched a hand toward the littered table. But 
 unfortunately the paper had again disappeared, 
 and although McNatt searched long and deter- 
 minedly, making the confusion more confused, it 
 refused to be discovered. Finally, giving up the 
 quest, McNatt sat down again, stretching his long
 
 208 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 legs across the floor and thrusting a pair of large, 
 very chapped hands into his pockets. 
 
 * 'Myers came to see me this morning," he re- 
 marked placidly. "He's captain of the football 
 team this year. But you know him, of course. I 
 forgot you were on the team, Harmon. Queer fel- 
 low, Myers: awfully obstinate and opinionated, 
 don't you think?" 
 
 "Well, he's likely to have rather pronounced 
 views on any subject that he's very much inter- 
 ested in," replied Willard cautiously. "Football 
 for instance." 
 
 McNatt chuckled. "It was football he came to 
 see me about. He wanted me to play full- 
 back. It seems the fellow they've got isn't 
 very satisfactory. You told me that, too, I 
 think." 
 
 "Yes, I did," said Willard, "and I'm mighty 
 glad you're going to help us out, McNatt!" 
 
 McNatt frowned and shook his head. "Oh, but 
 I'm not. I told Myers I couldn't, you know. He 
 I don't think he liked it." 
 
 "You're not!" exclaimed Willard incredu- 
 lously. "But-but why?" 
 
 McNatt stared a moment as though a trifle sur- 
 prised. "Why, I'm out of football, Harmon! I 
 thought I told you that. I haven't played since
 
 DIPLOMACY 209 
 
 my second year here. I've given it up completely. 
 You see, I hadn't any patience with the fuddling 
 way they taught it. Everything's so hit-or-miss. 
 No science at all. You acknowledged that your- 
 self, Harmon." 
 
 Willard nodded. "Yes, that's true. But, look 
 here, McNatt, it seems to me the game of football 
 needs fellows like you; fellows, I mean, who er 
 who realize what's wrong with it and have the 
 the courage and brains to remedy it." 
 
 McNatt tilted back and shook his head slowly. 
 "They won't listen, Harmon," he said. "I tried 
 Myers today. He couldn't see what I meant at 
 all. Just got very impatient and told me I was a 
 slacker. I'm afraid Myers has a one-track mind, 
 Harmon." 
 
 "Joe is awfully anxious to beat Kenly," replied 
 Willard, "and he takes it for granted that every 
 other fellow is just like he is. He loses sight of 
 the fact that there are fellows here in school like 
 you, McNatt, who don't give a whoop whether 
 Alton wins or doesn't." 
 
 McNatt shook his head almost violently. "You 
 mustn't say that," he protested. "Although not 
 actively participating in football any longer, Har- 
 mon, I am still vastly interested in it and follow 
 it very carefully. And, naturally, I want Alton to
 
 210 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 defeat Kenly. Yes, indeed, decidedly! Yon 
 mustn't ah consider me unpatriotic." 
 
 "Oh," murmured Willard. "I didn't under- 
 stand. I thought " 
 
 "Yes?" encouraged McNatt. 
 
 "Why, only that, not being willing to help the 
 School out by going back to the team, you didn't 
 didn't care very much!" 
 
 McNatt smiled gently. "I'm afraid you're 
 rather like Myers," he chided. "You can only 
 see what's directly in front of your eyes. Myers 
 couldn't understand that I might find other things 
 more important than football. I explained that 
 my scientific pursuits meant more to me than 
 playing full-back on the eleven." 
 
 "Then I'm not like Joe," responded Willard, 
 smiling, "for I can understand it. I suppose 
 what does puzzle me, McNatt, is your not being 
 willing to apply your science to the bettering of 
 the game and the defeat of the enemy. Seems to 
 me you've got a big chance to demonstrate your 
 theories and to help the School at the same time.'* 
 
 McNatt looked surprised. "But I've explained 
 that they won't listen!" he said. 
 
 "Don't ask them to listen," replied Willard 
 smilingly, yet very earnestly. "Show them!" 
 
 "Show them? You mean"
 
 DIPLOMACY 211 
 
 "Exactly! Go out and play fuH-back as it 
 should be played. Scientifically. According to 
 your ideas. Prove there's something in it, Mc- 
 Natt. Afterwards you can talk and they'll 
 listen." 
 
 McNatt drew his hands from his trousers pock- 
 ets and rubbed them thoughtfully together. "I 
 wonder if it could be done," he muttered. "You 
 see, Harmon, it isn't the playing of one position 
 that counts, but the conduct of the whole game, 
 the the modus operandi. And yet " He re- 
 lapsed into silence again. 
 
 "Being there, though, right on hand, would 
 help, wouldn't it!" Willard asked. "I mean, 
 you'd be in a better position to offer your advice 
 and aid. And maybe you might play full-back so 
 well that they'd realize that that science has its 
 place in football." 
 
 "Do you know," exclaimed McNatt quite ex- 
 citedly, "you almost persuade me to try it, Har- 
 mon ! By golly, you do ! This man that is coach- 
 ing this year I forget his name ; is he the sort 
 you can talk to f You know some of these coaches 
 are so so set! You can't get them to listen to 
 anything at all ! " 
 
 "I don't think Mr. Cade is that sort," replied 
 .Willard reassuringly. "I'd say he was quite open
 
 212 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 to conviction, McNatt. In fact" and here Wil- 
 lard smiled to himself "in fact, I think I can 
 promise that he will listen to anything that prom- 
 ises success for the team. There's one thing, 
 though, that might bother you, old chap. You've 
 been out of training a good while and of course 
 condition's got a heap to do with playing foot- 
 ball well." 
 
 McNatt shook his head impatiently. "My con- 
 dition's all right," he answered. "I'll have to 
 read up on the new rules, though. They've made 
 several changes since I played before. I suppose 
 I ought to see Myers and tell him I've changed 
 my mind." 
 
 "I've got a rules book," said Willard, "and 
 I'll bring it over to you the first thing in the 
 morning. As for telling Myers, I wouldn't trou- 
 ble. I'm quite likely to run across him myself 
 this evening and I'll pass the good word to him 
 if you like." 
 
 "I'd be very much obliged," answered McNatt 
 gratefully, "but don't go out of your way, please. 
 Funny you should turn up here tonight, Harmon. 
 I'm glad you did, though, I really am. I wouldn't 
 have realized what an opportunity this thing af- 
 fords me if you hadn't I"
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 M'NATT JOINS THE TEAM 
 
 A GREAT many years before the period of this 
 story Alton Academy manufactured its own illum- 
 inating gas from gasoline by means of a machine 
 in the basement of Academy Hall. The machine 
 was connected by pipe with a gasoline tank set 
 in a covered pit some sixty feet from the build- 
 ing. One fine day there was trouble with the gas- 
 oline supply and one of the faculty members 
 known as Old Grubby descended into the pit to 
 investigate matters. Just what occurred down 
 there was never known, but shortly after Old 
 Grubby disappeared from sight he reappeared 
 with vastly more celerity, and his reappearance 
 was accompanied by a violent concussion that 
 brought everyone rushing to the scene or to the 
 dormitory windows. A fortunate few gained 
 points of vantage in time to see the teacher's 
 ascent interrupted by the force of gravitation and 
 to watch his return to earth. This happened at 
 a point many feet distant from the crater that had 
 once been a brick-lined pit, and was quite spectae- 
 
 213
 
 214 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 ular. Fortunately, aside from a severe shaking 
 up, some contusions and a nervous shock, Old 
 Grubby was uninjured, although just at first it 
 seemed to the horrified spectators that he had suf- 
 fered a direful fate, since he had gone into the pit 
 with a luxuriant growth of dark hair on his head 
 and had subsequently descended from his flight 
 with his scalp as bare and polished as a pale-pink 
 billiard ball ! None was more horror-stricken than 
 the unfortunate gentleman himself, however, 
 when he realized his plight. Clapping both hands 
 to his head, he broke loose from the solicitous res- 
 cuers and ran agitatedly around in circles. Such 
 extraordinary behavior on the part of an ordinar- 
 ily sane gentleman was naturally adjudged to be 
 the result of temporary dementia produced by the 
 accident, and so, of course, all those who had ar- 
 rived on the scene took up the chase. Old Grubby 
 dodged and eluded, giving vent to inarticulate 
 ejaculations of dismay, and the chase might have 
 continued for quite a while had he not finally, with 
 a cry of relief and triumph, snatched a brown 
 object from a lower branch of a tree, clapped it on 
 his shining head and dashed for his room. 
 
 The incident created a remarkable sensation; 
 not so much that portion concerned with the in- 
 teresting explosion of the gasoline tank as the re-
 
 McNATT JOINS THE TEAM 215 
 
 sultant revelation. For many years Old Grubby 
 had managed to deceive the sharpest eyes in his 
 classes and never had there been the faintest of 
 doubts expressed as to the naturalness of his 
 beautiful dark brown locks. And then before the 
 eyes of the whole school he had been exposed! 
 After the first shock of incredulous surprise, Al- 
 ton Academy roared and rocked with laughter. 
 Students and faculty gasped and gurgled fra- 
 ternally, and you may well believe that the spec- 
 tacle of the Principal seated on the lower step 
 of Academy Hall, swaying rhythmically from 
 side to side and holding his head in his hands, 
 did nothing to quell the contagion. History has 
 it that at the end of that term Old Grubby re- 
 signed and took himself to distant fields where 
 his precious secret was not known. 
 
 Now this has no place in the present narrative 
 save as a prelude to the statement that not since 
 its occurrence had the School known such a sen- 
 sation as was caused by the appearance of Felix 
 Adelbert McNatt as a member of the football 
 squad ! 
 
 McNatt reported on Friday afternoon, clad in 
 ancient regalia that included the disreputable 
 green sweater, and the news spread like wildfire. 
 Society rooms, studies, tennis courts were de-
 
 216 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 serted, and the stands beside the gridiron were so 
 filled that you would have thought the Big Game 
 was in progress. Disbelief vanished as the un- 
 mistakable form of McNatt was descried on the 
 field and amused conviction took its place. "Hoo- 
 ray for McNutt!" shrilled an irrepressible fresh- 
 man, and the audience cheered loudly. "Regular 
 cheer, fellows!" bawled a junior, "with nine 'Mc- 
 Natts'!" The response was thrilling, even if the 
 "McNatts" became "McNutts" in the perform- 
 ance, and after that the new candidate had only 
 to move a hand or a long leg to be greeted by 
 uproarious applause! 
 
 "Whether McNatt realized the sensation he was 
 producing, or the nature of it, I can't say. At 
 least, he gave no sign. Perhaps he thought that 
 every practice witnessed a similar loyal attend- 
 ance and that the applause that fell to him was 
 no more than was generally accorded. McNatt, 
 fortunately, was not self-conscious nor sensitive. 
 If he had been he might have found it difficult to 
 perform the duties set him. As it was, he worked 
 hard and faithfully and with surprising ability, 
 proving at once that he had neither forgotten 
 what he had formerly known of football nor had 
 allowed his long absence from the game to put 
 .him out of condition. He tackled the dummy with
 
 McNATT JOINS THE TEAM 217 
 
 the rest of the squad and showed how it should 
 be tackled, he swung a clever foot against the ball 
 and got thirty-five yards at a punt and he caught 
 the returning pigskin with ease and certainty. In 
 .short, McNatt that Friday afternoon caused 
 Coach Cade to stare and shake his head and al- 
 most rub his eyes and the audience along the side- 
 lines to change their laughter to enthusiastic, un- 
 grudging applause before the practice session was 
 ended. 
 
 A mere five minutes with a squad in formation 
 drill taught McNatt the signals sufficiently for his 
 purpose, and later, when the second team came 
 across, filled with ambition and an overwhelming 
 desire to see what all the laughing and cheering 
 was about, and McNatt was put in at full-back on 
 the first, why, he made good from the first mo- 
 ment. He clung doggedly to that green sweater, 
 though others were down to canvas, and it shone 
 resplendent in every play. Kruger, whose wont 
 it was to take the ball for the second and go rear- 
 ing through inside or outside of tackle, saw his 
 glory fade. The first time he tried it he ran 
 straight into a green sweater. Those nearest 
 heard an amazed "Whoof!" from Kruger, and 
 then he was borne back and placed expeditiously 
 on the turf, and a chuckling referee added another
 
 218 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 yard to the distance to be gained. But the best 
 came when the first team, having wrested the ball 
 from a surprised second, sprang to the assault- 
 Cochran gained three past left guard and then 
 Tarver called on McNatt. Gil said afterwards 
 that the full-back got to him so quick that he al- 
 most missed the pass. Bob and Stacey did their 
 part, and then a green streak passed between 
 them, smashed into a luckless second team guardj 
 caromed off a tackle and proceeded down the 
 field, spurning the backs much as a cannon ball 
 might treat the attentions of so many toy terriers, 
 and, with an easy if ungraceful stride, ate up the 
 intervening sixty-seven yards and deposited the 
 pigskin squarely behind the goal. After whieK 
 McNatt seated himself on the ball and waited for 
 the others to come along. 
 
 Not for seasons of football on Alton Field had 
 there been such a wild paean of delight as arose 
 to the blue October sky just then! Reversing the 
 usual order, McNatt had arisen from the ridicu- 
 lous to the sublime, and Alton loved him for itl 
 Joy and laughter were mingled in that long-con- 
 tinued outburst, continued since the sight of the 
 elongated McNatt seated unconcernedly on the 
 football down there moved the onlookers to new; 
 merriment. Cochran kicked a goal and the game
 
 McNATT JOINS THE TEAM 219 
 
 went on, and the audience breathlessly awaited 
 another enlivening spectacle. But another such* 
 incident would have been too much for the Law 
 of Probabilities. McNatt smashed and wormed 
 and twisted his way through the second team's 
 astonished line time after time for good gains, 
 but when eleven outraged and argus-eyed youths 
 are watching for the appearance of one green- 
 sweatered enemy that enemy hasn't much chance 
 of escaping detection and detention, and for that 
 reason McNatt didn't again get free that after- 
 noon. But he did gain every time he was given 
 the ball, which is glory enough, while the fact 
 that the opponents played for McNatt every time 
 the lines heaved afforded Cochran and Mawson 
 i or, later, Willard an absence of attention that 
 enabled them to do wonders. 
 
 Before the end of the game McNatt was taken 
 out, not, it appeared, because he was exhausted 
 or had lost any of his enthusiasm, but probably 
 because Jake, the trainer, willed it so. After that 
 he sat on the bench, surrounded by admirers, and 
 explained gravely his views on Science as a Foun- 
 dation for Football. 
 
 Yes, the advent of Felix Adelbert McNatt was 
 certainly a sensation, and as such it served as a 
 topic of conversation for not only the rest of that
 
 220 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 day but for many days following. After the first 
 flush of delight occasioned by the finding of such' 
 a wonder, captious ones asked why McNatt hadn't 
 been discovered before, dwelling on the fact that 
 he had been there right along and could have been 
 discovered as long ago as the season before last 
 if those in charge of football had known their 
 business ! But on the whole the School was much 
 too well pleased to indulge in criticism. The one 
 weak position on the team had been strengthened 
 and a victory over Kenly loomed large. Willard 
 received almost tearful thanks from Joe and 
 warm commendations from the coach. The lat- 
 ter 's evident gratitude gave Willard the courage 
 to offer advice. "You see, sir," he confided, 
 " McNatt 's got a lot of queer ideas about how 
 football ought to be played, and he really agreed 
 to join the team because he hopes to to sort of 
 reform things. He asked me if you were the sort 
 of man he could explain his theories to and I said 
 you were. So, if you don't mind, I guess it would 
 be a pretty good plan to sort of sort of humor 
 him, Mr. Cade, and let him tell you about 
 Science." 
 
 "He can tell me about Science and Art, too, if 
 he will play the way he played yesterday I" re- 
 plied the coach emphatically. "And if he can talk
 
 McNATT JOINS THE TEAM 221 
 
 the way lie tackles I'll listen to him all night. And 
 you may tell him so ! " 
 
 But McNatt was biding his time. He didn't 
 mean to spoil his chances to put the game of foot- 
 ball on a proper scientific basis by introducing 
 his ideas too early. He meant to erect a firm 
 basis first, to show by the scientific playing of a 
 single position the plausibility of his theory that 
 all positions were capable of like treatment, both 
 individually and collectively in the form of the 
 team. Also, he wanted to establish cordial rela- 
 tions with the powers, the coach and captain, be- 
 fore beginning his proselytism. Meanwhile, as 
 Willard learned later, he devoted much time to 
 further study of the subject, collecting much data 
 and drawing interesting if not altogether con- 
 vincing conclusions from it. As it turned out, 
 McNatt was far too busy playing his position as 
 it should be played to do much more that season 
 than drive the entering wedge of reform into the 
 football situation. He spent all one evening in 
 Mr. Cade's rooms on one occasion and expounded 
 to his heart's content, referring at intervals to a 
 wealth of memoranda, and was listened to courte- 
 ously and patiently. And on numerous other oc- 
 casions he held forth to such as would listen, and, 
 while his audience was secretly amused, outwardly;
 
 222 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 his remarks met sober and reverent attention. 
 Perhaps some day even when you are reading 
 this story for all I know McNatt will be hailed as 
 the Prophet of Scientific Football and the game 
 will be played according to his ideas. In which 
 case, all I can say is that I shan't care to see it! 
 
 The day after McNatt 's first appearance with 
 the team was the day of the Hillsport game. 
 Hillsport School was a much smaller institution 
 than Alton Academy, but it made up for lack of 
 numbers by self-esteem and aggressiveness. It 
 had held a place on Alton's football schedule for 
 four years, during which time it had met with one 
 defeat, had played one tie and had won one 
 victory. 
 
 The victory had come to it last year, on Alton 
 Field, and in the ecstasy of triumph the Hills- 
 port supporters had tarried in town long enough 
 to record that triumph for posterity. Loyal Al- 
 tonians on their way to church Sunday morning 
 found to their horror and indignant surprise that 
 the legend: "H. S. 14, A. A. 6," appeared in 
 large green characters on a dozen hitherto blank 
 walls and boardings! The worst of it was that 
 the insulting inscriptions were there to stay. 
 Perhaps the elements would, in the course of 
 years, subdue, perhaps obliterate, those vivid
 
 McNATT JOINS THE TEAM 223 
 
 J>rush streaks, but today they looked as glaring 
 as they had on that first calm Sabbath morning. 
 Alton had viewed and exclaimed and muttered 
 yengefully for some days, but as time passed 
 familiarity bred indifference, and now it was only 
 when a visiting relative innocently asked the 
 meaning of the cryptic signs that indignation and 
 a thirst for revenge welled again in the Alton 
 breast. 
 
 Last year's defeat and those insulting green 
 painted symbols of disgrace combined to form a 
 mad desire for revenge this fall in the heart of 
 jevery Alton fellow. There were some whose out- 
 raged sensibilities even induced the opinion that 
 a victory over Hillsport was more to be desired 
 than a triumph over that arch-enemy, Kenly Hall. 
 ,This, however, was an extreme view held by only 
 a few, although among the few were several rep- 
 resentative minds: as, for instance, Mr. Robert 
 [Wallace Newhall and Mr. Calvin Grainger. Mr. 
 Newhall stated distinctly and with much feeling, 
 in the presence of Mr. Grainger, Mr. Myers, Mr. 
 Proctor and Mr. Harmon, that if "we don't lick 
 the tar out of those fresh mutts tomorrow I won't 
 come back here!" Mr. Grainger, who had earn- 
 estly striven the preceding spring to wreak re- 
 yeage on Hillsport on the baseball diamond, and
 
 224 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 had failed, applauded the sentiment, but other3, 
 frivolous-minded persons like Martin Proctor and 
 Joe Myers, expressed only derision. 
 
 "What would you do, Bob?" asked Martin. 
 "Stay over in Hillsport and blow up the school 
 buildings ?" 
 
 "He knows blamed well," laughed Joe, "that 
 he's safe. With old Felix McNutt tearing holes 
 in the line, Hillsport 's got about the same chance 
 to escape a walloping as Bob has to get to 
 heaven ! ' ' 
 
 "I hope you're right," said Cal Grainger. 
 "I'd feel disgraced if those fresh guys licked U3 
 again." 
 
 "They won't," Joe assured him. "Not this 
 year. Boy, we 've got a team now ! With McNutt 
 in there, that's a mighty pretty backfield, and 
 Kenly's going to know it three weeks from to- 
 morrow!" 
 
 "Three weeks!" exclaimed Willard. "Not 
 really?" 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "But but that's so soon! Gee, I thought the 
 Kenly game was lots further off!" 
 
 "It isn't, though," answered Joe, shaking his 
 head. "And those three weeks will be gone be- 
 fore you know it, too. It's funny about that. One
 
 McNATT JOINS THE TEAM 225 
 
 day you're in the middle of the season, and then, 
 seems like it was the next day, you wake up and 
 the Big Game's right on top of you! It it sort 
 of scares you, too!" 
 
 "Say, Joe, what's the real dope on Kenly this 
 year, anyway?" asked Bob thoughtfully. 
 
 Joe shrugged. "You know as much as I do. 
 She 's had about an average season, I guess. She's 
 played five games, one more than we have, and 
 has lost two, won two and tied the other. You 
 can't tell much about Kenly until along toward 
 the end of the season, any more than you can 
 about us. Last year she didn't look very good 
 until the Lorimer game. Then she walked all over 
 Lorimer to the tune of twenty-something to noth- 
 ing. That was the week before we played her, 
 you know, and it made us sit up and take notice. 
 But taking notice didn't do us much good, for she 
 walloped us when our turn came." 
 
 "The papers speak pretty well of her backs," 
 observed Cal. "She has one fellow, I forget his 
 same " 
 
 "Puckhaber?" asked Joe. 
 
 "That's it, Puckhaber! Some name, I'll sayl 
 He's good, isn't he?" 
 
 "He's all right, but he wasn't anything re- 
 markable last fall. We stopped him as well as we
 
 226 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 stopped any of her backs. She's got a good man 
 in Timmons, though, her left end. He'll bear 
 watching, fellows. Well, it's nine-thirty, Bob. 
 Time to turn in. This may be your last night in 
 the old school, son: better make the most of it!"
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 REVENGE ! 
 
 ALTON played the enemy at Hillsport this year, a 
 small town some twelve miles to the south. The 
 distance, however, didn't measure up to the time 
 it took for the journey, for team and supporters 
 had to take the train to Darlington, nine miles 
 away, and then cross to Hillsport by trolley, con- 
 suming all of an hour and ten minutes on the 
 way. Saturday was what Martin called a 
 "mushy" day. The sun came and went from be- 
 yond a haze of gray clouds and a light, damp 
 breeze blew inland from the sea. It was too warm 
 for an ideal football day, but those who were to 
 look on found no fault with it. Most of the School 
 accompanied the players and, since Manager 
 Ross when providing for the team's transporta- 
 tion had failed to make any arrangement for the 
 followers, a lamentable lack of conveyances de- 
 veloped at Darlington. There was a special car 
 waiting for the players, but the single regular 
 car which was due to make the trip to Hillsport 
 ten minutes later could not possibly be made to 
 
 227
 
 228 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 hold more than eighty of the nearly three hundred 
 fellows who fought for places. A hurry call was 
 telephoned to Hillsport for extra cars, but before 
 they came several scores of good-natured but 
 impatient youths had set forth on foot to cover 
 the last two-and-a-half-mile leg of the journey. 
 Fortunately for these, the game was not started 
 until nearly fifteen minutes after the advertised 
 time and the last flushed and perspiring Altonian 
 had dragged himself to a seat before the Green 
 kicked off to the Gray-and-Gold. 
 
 There is no good reason for devoting much 
 space to the contest, for, although the final score 
 was not as one-sided as early evidences promised, 
 it was plainly to be seen from the first moment 
 that the visiting horde was certain of victory. 
 Save that McLeod was in Macon's place at right 
 end for Alton, the line-up was quite as expected. 
 McNatt was at full-back and Mawson at left half. 
 Gil Tarver held the helm. There were no substi- 
 tutes introduced by Coach Cade until the third 
 inning was well along. Then Jack Macon, who 
 had been suffering from a mild attack of tonsil- 
 litis, went back to his position, and Willard and 
 Moncks were sent in to replace Mawson and Coch- 
 ran. Still later, Hutchins ousted Gil Tarver and 
 Cravath replaced Nichols at center. Both teams
 
 REVENGE! 229 
 
 found the weather uncomfortable and toward the 
 last the play slowed up until it fairly dragged. 
 
 There were no spectacular incidents. Alton 
 used few plays and made them go. There was 
 never at any time necessity for uncovering any- 
 thing new. Hillsport, encouraged by much excel- 
 lent support from the east side of the field, started 
 off very confidently to make gains through the 
 opposing line. After several failures she shifted 
 her attention to the ends, and still later attempted 
 a kicking advance. To the latter, to the surprise 
 and delight of the visiting spectators, McNatt re- 
 plied and replied eloquently. Substitutions had 
 deprived the Alton team of her usual punters and 
 the task of returning Hillsport 's kicks devolved on 
 the full-back, and the full-back accepted the task 
 untroubledly and, while he was too much out of 
 practice to quite equal the best efforts of the 
 rival punter, he performed some very satisfactory 
 feats in aerial warfare. McNatt was held back 
 today, being afforded few chances to shine lest 
 his fame reach Kenly too early in the season. 
 Whether there were any Kenly scouts on hand to 
 take notes was not known, but Coach Cade was 
 determined that if there were they should have 
 but little to report. McNatt on defense, though, 
 was not to be repressed, and many an ambitious
 
 230 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 Hillsport back was nipped in the bnd, so to speak". 
 On the attack McNatt gained whenever he was 
 called on, but the work was very evenly distrib- 
 uted among the backs. Willard played a strong, 
 hard game which, if no better than Mawson had 
 put up, was equally as good. Alton made her first 
 score in the first period, smashing Cochran over 
 for a touchdown at the end of eight minutes of 
 playing. Cochran crowned his touchdown with a 
 goal. In the second period Alton worked to Hills- 
 port's eighteen yards and lost the ball on a fumble 
 by Tarver, and was on her way to a second touch- 
 down when the whistle blew, leaving her in pos- 
 session of the ball on the enemy's twenty- three 
 yards. In the third period, after Hillsport had 
 rallied and taken the pigskin to near Alton's 
 thirty, the Gray-and-Gold took the ball on downs 
 and began a fourth journey up the field that fi- 
 nally resulted in the second score, McNatt going 
 off left tackle for four yards and the touchdown. 
 Tarver kicked a neat goal. That ended the scor- 
 ing, and, while Hillsport opened up several long 
 passes after the next kick-off and occasioned a 
 moment of uneasiness once, neither side threat- 
 ened the opponent's goal, and the play became 
 utterly listless as the end approached. 
 
 Today's Hillsport eleven was not by any means
 
 REVENGE! 231 
 
 the team that had worsted Alton last fall, and 
 Alton's victory was nothing to be very proud of. 
 It was, consequently, satisfaction from revenge 
 achieved rather than pride of performance that 
 caused the visiting crowd to cheer and sing with 
 such unction when the game was over. Alton 
 "rubbed it in" a little, I fear, and, since the Hills- 
 port fellows didn't take defeat any too gracefully, 
 it looked at one time as if there would be trouble 
 before the marching victors left the field. How- 
 ever, a clash was averted, and Alton, waving gray- 
 and-gold banners and still cheering, took herself 
 across the grounds to the car line. Better accom-? 
 modations were afforded for the return trip to 
 Darlington and no one had to walk. 
 
 The Alton team had dressed in the field-house, 
 a small wooden structure built under one of the 
 grandstands, and by the time they were once 
 more in street clothes the spectators had long 
 since vanished. Willard and Martin had shared 
 the same suitcase and when, having reached the 
 waiting trolley car, some three blocks distant from 
 the field, it was discovered the suitcase was miss* 
 ing each laid the blame on the other. 
 
 "I thought you had it," said Martin. 
 
 ' * I thought you had it, ' ' replied Willard. * * You 
 were at it last."
 
 232 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 "I was! I'll bet you! I'll match you to see 
 which of us goes back for it." 
 
 "I don't mind going," said Willard, "but I'll 
 miss the car, I guess." 
 
 "We'll wait for you," said Bob, who, with Cal 
 Grainger, had been enjoying the joke. "There'll 
 be another car pretty quick. Get a move on, 
 Brand!" 
 
 Willard found the field-house locked when he 
 reached it again, and no one was in sight. There 
 was just one thing to be done, and he did it. Find- 
 ing a flat piece of iron amongst the litter behind 
 the little building, he forced a window and crawled 
 through. Rather to his surprise, the suitcase was 
 just where they had left it, and, leaving as he had 
 entered, he closed the window again and hurried 
 back across the school grounds. It was well after 
 five o'clock and lights were showing in some of 
 the dormitory windows. At the main entrance a 
 group of three awaited him; Martin, Bob and 
 Cal. The special car had gone, but Bob assured 
 him that there would be another one along pretty 
 soon, and so, their bags at their feet, they perched 
 themselves on the coping of the wall and waited. 
 At intervals Hillsport youths passed through the 
 gateway, eyeing them with a disfavor that brought 
 chuckles from Bob.
 
 REVENGE! 233 
 
 "Gee, they're a sore bunch," he said. "We 
 could get up a scrap without half trying." 
 
 "Don't see what they've got to be sore 
 about," observed Cal Grainger belligerently. 
 "We haven't daubed green paint all over their 
 town ! ' ' 
 
 Willard held his watch to the light and inquired 
 uneasily: "What time does that train go, fel- 
 lows!" 
 
 "Quarter to six," answered Martin. "What 
 time is it!" 
 
 "Nearly half-past five," replied Willard. 
 
 Bob whistled. "We'll never make it," he 
 laughed. "When's the next one! Anyone 
 Inow!" 
 
 No one did. Cal remarked that even if the car 
 came right then it wouldn't get them to Darling- 
 ton in time for the train that the others were 
 taking. 
 
 "What do we care!" asked Bob. "We don't 
 have to get back until ten if we don't want to. 
 Look here, let's get some supper here and go 
 home afterwards!" 
 
 "Might as well," agreed Martin. "We 
 couldn't possibly get to school before seven. Got 
 any money! I'm broke."
 
 234 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "A couple of dollars," answered Bob. "Howj 
 about you, Cal?" 
 
 Cal confessed to being the Croesus of the party, 
 having the magnificent sum of four dollars and 
 some cents on his person, and, unlike some 
 wealthy persons, he was quite willing to share his 
 riches. So, all being agreed, they set forth foi; 
 the center of town, following the car-track foi; 
 guidance. The long-awaited car overtook them 
 presently, but, although Bob was for taking it be-; 
 cause of his suitcase, he was overruled, Cal re-i 
 lieving him of his burden. Half a mile from the 
 school a quite pretentious restaurant rewarded 
 their search and they trooped in and took posses- 
 sion of a table for four. Having ordered rather 
 an elaborate repast, it was decided that Cal should 
 go out and gather information regarding the train 
 service, and Cal, hastily swallowing the rest oi; 
 the slice of bread that he was engaged on, went. 
 He returned five minutes later grinning broadly* 
 
 " What's the trouble?" asked Bob. " Spill it, 
 son. I know that grin of yours ! ' ' 
 
 "There was a train two minutes ago," chuckled 
 Cal, "and the next one doesn't go until eight- 
 thirty-three!" 
 
 "What do we care?" asked Bob. "That'll get 
 us home long before ten."
 
 REVENGE! 235 
 
 "Sure, but what '11 we do for two hours in this 
 benighted burg?" asked Martin. 
 
 " Maybe there's a movie house. There's bound 
 to be," said Bob. 
 
 ''I didn't see any," Cal replied. "I guess they 
 don't allow 'em here." 
 
 "We'll ask someone." Bob hailed a waiter. 
 
 "Movies? No, sir, not in Hillsport. There's 
 two good ones over to Warner, though," replied 
 the waiter. 
 
 "How far's Warner?" 
 
 "Three miles by the trolley. It takes about 
 twenty minutes." 
 
 "Great green grasshoppers!" exclaimed Cal. 
 "What a place to live in! What do you do at 
 night here?" 
 
 "Well, there's a pool-room on the street above 
 and a bowling-alley across the square," chuckled 
 the waiter. "Mostly, though, we go to bed!" 
 
 "I don't blame you," muttered Martin. "Only 
 thing to do is eat as much as we can and take our 
 time about it. How long before those steaks '11 be 
 here?" 
 
 "Guess they're ready now, sir. I'll go see." 
 
 When the waiter had departed Cal took another 
 piece of bread, levied on Willard's butter and 
 spoke thickly. "Listen, fellows," he said. "Tell
 
 236 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 you what we can do. We can get back at Hills- 
 port." 
 
 "Get back at it!" jeered Martin. "Get out of 
 it's what we want!" 
 
 "I mean we can do a little celebrating," con- 
 tinned Cal, lowering his voice, although the tables 
 were empty on each side of them. "Get me?" 
 
 "Not clearly," answered Bob. "Elucidate, 
 please. Also, kindly keep away from my butter, 
 you big hog!" Bob removed his modest pat to a 
 safer place, and Cal, foiled, ate the remainder of 
 the slice unbuttered. 
 
 "Have you forgotten what they did to us last 
 year?" he demanded indignantly. 
 
 "Hardly! They licked us. And then the 
 painted the score all over I get you! By jim- 
 iny, that's a corking scheme, Cal! We'll do it! 
 We'll make this old burg as pretty as a picture! 
 We'll" 
 
 "We'll get in a peck of trouble," interrupted 
 Martin. "Not for me, thanks!" 
 
 "Oh, don't be a piker," begged Cal. "They 
 did it to us and didn't get into any trouble. 
 What's sauce for the sauce I mean " 
 
 "Is sauce for the saucer," aided Bob. "Righto! 
 We get your meaning, son. I see no reason why 
 we shouldn't be allowed some slight ah evi-
 
 EEVENGE! 237 
 
 5ence of our joy. Hillsport got away with it, so 
 why shouldn't we!" 
 
 The arrival of supper interrupted further dis- 
 cussion of the matter, and it was not until 
 the first intense pangs of hunger had been ap- 
 peased that Martin returned to the subject. 
 "We'd have to have paint and brushes," he said 
 discouragingly, "and we couldn't get them at this 
 time of night." 
 
 "We'd only need one bucket of paint and one 
 brush," replied Bob. "And how do you know we 
 can't get them? This is Saturday night, and 
 there's sure to be some place open." 
 
 "Well, we couldn't get gray and gold in one 
 bucket, you lobster," returned Martin impolitely. 
 
 "We don't need gray and gold, you shrimp. 
 They wouldn't show up well enough. We want 
 a nice quart can of black. That 's the ticket ! Nice, 
 black black! Who's going to have pie!" 
 
 It appeared that as many as four of their num- 
 ber were going to indulge in that delicacy, and 
 that Martin, having consumed one large glass of 
 milk, was in the market for a second. He had 
 the forethought, though, to count his money be- 
 fore giving his order, and, finding he was safe, 
 added: "How much does paint cost? I've only 
 carfare left."
 
 238 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "Cal's got a dollar yet, haven't you?" answered 
 Bob. "Paint isn't expensive. Maybe seventy-five 
 cents for a quart. A brush oughtn't to be more 
 than a quarter, had it!" 
 
 "You can buy a toothbrush for a quarter," 
 said Cal, "but I guess a paint brush costs a heap 
 more. I've got a dollar and sixty cents left, 
 though, and I'll gladly devote it to the cause. 
 Finish your eats, fellows, and let's get started." 
 
 Willard followed doubtfully when the repast 
 was over. "I'll go along," he said, "but I'd 
 rather not have anything to do with the game. It 
 doesn't look healthy to me." 
 
 Martin laughed. "It's all right if we don't get 
 nabbed, Brand. I'd like mighty well to see the 
 expressions on the faces of some of these chaps 
 over here tomorrow!"
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 BLACK PAINT 
 
 As Bob had pointed out, it was Saturday night, 
 and even in Hillsport most of the merchants kept 
 their shops open. As it was considered unwise to 
 ask the location of a hardware store, the quartette 
 was some time finding one. But success rewarded 
 [their efforts presently and, lest numbers create 
 suspicion, Bob was delegated to do the purchas- 
 ing alone. Cal emptied his pocket of all it con- 
 gained except sufficient to pay his fare back to 
 lAlton and Bob pulled his cap down and entered 
 the store. In a very few minutes he emerged, a 
 paper-covered package under one arm, and 
 strolled casually along the street to a dimly 
 lighted corner where the others awaited him. 
 
 "Get it?" whispered Martin. 
 
 "Sure! Also and likewise a brush." Bob 
 pulled the latter article from a trousers pocket 
 and waved it triumphantly. * ' Here 's the change, ' ' 
 lie added. 
 
 Cal held the few coins that dropped into his 
 
 239
 
 240 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 palm to the uncertain light of a distant street 
 lamp. "Huh, there isn't much of it," he said. 
 
 "Paint's high, owing to to I forget what," 
 answered Bob cheerfully. "But the brush was 
 only thirty cents. That was cheap, eh?" 
 
 "It must be a wonder!" commented Cal. "Bet 
 you the bristles all come out before we get through 
 with it." 
 
 "We ought to soak it in water first," said Bob, 
 "but I guess there isn't time." 
 
 "You're a swell little guesser," answered Mar- 
 tin. "Which way do we go?" 
 
 "Back the way we came," said Cal. "The 
 nearer the school, the better, I say." 
 
 "That's right. I wonder should we stir this 
 stuff up." Bob tore off the disguising paper and 
 revealed a quart can. "Guess we'll have to. 
 Let's get the cover off and find a stick or some- 
 thing." 
 
 Getting the cover off was not difficult, Cal pry- 
 ing it up with his locker key, but finding a piece 
 of wood with which to stir was more of a prob- 
 lem. They searched and poked around in the 
 gloom of the back street without success until 
 Martin found a broken fence picket and pulled off 
 a nice long splinter. Then, in the added dark- 
 ness of a tree, they put the can on the sidewalk
 
 
 One brief instant they tarried to admire
 
 BLACK PAINT 241 
 
 and proceeded to mix the ingredients thoroughly. 
 Once a passer on the other side caused them to 
 straighten up and assume casual attitudes, but for 
 the rest they were undisturbed. Even on the busi- 
 ness thoroughfares Hillsport was not a crowded 
 town tonight. Presently they set off, Bob bearing 
 the paint and Cal the brush, keeping to the darker 
 streets until the center of the town was left be-; 
 hind. Then they crossed to the residence avenue 
 by which they had returned from the school and 
 began to look for blank walls or fences appropri- 
 ate to their purpose. 
 
 After some five blocks had been traveled Bob 
 voiced disparagement. "This is a punk town for 
 decorating," he said. " Nothing but iron and 
 picket fences." 
 
 "What's that over there?" asked Martin, 
 pointing. It proved, when they had crossed the* 
 street, to be the clapboarded side of a stable or, 
 garage set some three feet back from the fence* 
 Bob gloated fiendishly and called for the brush. 
 But, although until that instant scarcely half a 
 dozen persons had been sighted, now the long 
 street suddenly became densely populated, or so it 
 seemed to the vandals. A man came out of a house 
 across the way, a boy and a dog appeared from a 
 cross thoroughfare and two ladies appeared from;
 
 242 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 the direction of the shopping district. Bob depos- 
 ited the paint can against the fence and the boys 
 stood in front of it in negligent attitudes. Cal 
 ^histled idly and unmusically. The boy passed 
 unsuspiciously, but the dog showed signs of curi- 
 osity until Martin lifted him swiftly but merci- 
 fully from the vicinity with a dexterous foot. 
 jThen the man, having lighted a cigar very delib- 
 erately, took himself off and the two ladies 
 passed, casting nervous glances at the quartette, 
 and the street was again quiet. 
 
 Bob dipped brush in paint and reached toward 
 the immaculate whiteness of the building. Wil- 
 lard looked on dubiously, but forebore to remon- 
 strate. It was a difficult reach and Bob was 
 grumbling before he had formed the big A that 
 started the inscription. But, although the black 
 paint ran down the handle of the brush and in- 
 commoded him vastly, he persevered and in a min- 
 ute the sign stood forth in the semi-darkness, huge 
 and startling: 
 
 A. A. 14 
 H.S. 
 
 One brief instant they tarried to admire, and 
 then they hurried away from the place. It seemed 
 to them that those big black letters and numerals 
 visible for blocks ! By common consent they
 
 BLACK PAINT 2431 
 
 turned the next corner and dived into the com- 
 parative blackness of a side street. Presently 
 they stopped and exchanged felicitations. 
 
 " Swell!" chuckled Cal. "Gee, I wish I could 
 see the Hillsport fellows tomorrow when they 
 catch sight of it!" 
 
 "So do I," said Bob. "Didn't it show up 
 great? Who's got a handkerchief he's not partic- 
 ular about?" 
 
 "Wipe your hands on your trousers," advised 
 Martin coldly. 
 
 "What's the matter with your own handker- 
 chief?" inquired Cal. "You get too much paint 
 on your brush, anyway. ' ' 
 
 "Well, you can't be very careful when you've 
 got to hurry," grumbled Bob. "You can do the 
 next one, seeing you know so blamed much about 
 it! Gosh, the silly stuff is running up my 
 sleeve!" 
 
 "I've got an old handkerchief you can have," 
 said Willard. 
 
 "Thanks, Brand. You're the only gentleman 
 in the bunch. Excepting me," added Bob as Mar- 
 tin laughed. 
 
 "Where next?" asked Cal while Bob wiped his 
 hand. 
 
 "Let's paint a good one somewhere near the
 
 244 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 school," Martin suggested. "Seems to me there 
 ^ras a brick wall across from where we were wait- 
 ing for the car that would be just the ticket." 
 
 "Lead me to it," begged Cal. "This is my 
 iturn." 
 
 They got back to the main street a block far- 
 ther on and a few minutes' walk brought them 
 in sight of the main entrance to the school. ' ' We 
 don't want to stay around too long," said WiL 
 lard. "It's nearly eight o'clock now." 
 
 "Guess we'll have to do one more and call it 
 a day," replied Bob. "I never saw such a punk 
 town for for decorative purposes!" 
 
 Three Hillsport fellows, returning to school, 
 overtook them as they neared the entrance and, 
 as it seemed, viewed them very, very suspiciously. 
 But the four kept their heads down, and Cal, now 
 carrying the pot of paint, was careful to keep it 
 hidden. The three entered the school grounds 
 and were lost to sight and the conspirators 
 breathed more freely. The wide street ended at 
 the campus. A cross street ran right and left and 
 for a block in each direction the high iron fence 
 of the school bore it company. From the right the 
 street car line came, turning in front of the gate. 
 As, however, they had seen but one car since they 
 had started forth on their expedition, interrup-
 
 BLACK PAINT 245 
 
 tion from that source seemed unlikely. The brick 
 wall of which Martin had spoken could not have 
 been placed more advantageously. It surrounded 
 the small premises of a residence on the left-hand 
 corner, and, as Bob triumphantly pointed out, a 
 sign painted there would be the first thing seea 
 by anyone coming through the school gate. 
 
 "That's all right, " returned Cal dubiously, 
 "but it's awfully light here." And so it was, for 
 just inside the gate an electric arc lamp shed its 
 blue radiance afar. 
 
 "I'll stand at the gate," volunteered Bob, "and 
 Mart and Brand can watch the streets. If any- 
 one comes we'll whistle." 
 
 "What about the folks in the house?" Gal's 
 enthusiasm was rapidly waning. The residence 
 was brightly lighted and the strains of a pianoj 
 came forth. 
 
 "They can't see through the wall, you lunk- 
 head," answered Bob, "and if anyone comes out 
 we'll see 'em and let you know. All you need to. 
 do then is set the paint pot down and just walk 
 away, careless-like. " 
 
 "We-ell, but you fellows watch," said Cal re- 
 signedly. , 
 
 Bob posted himself across the street at the en- 
 trance and Martin and Willard took up positions
 
 246 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 from where they could see anyone approaching on 
 either street. Then Cal set to work. Painting on 
 the rough surface of a brick wall is not so simple 
 as painting on wood, and Cal made slow progress. 
 Now and then the others heard disgusted mur- 
 murs from where, a darker form against the 
 shadows, he stooped at his task. Several min^ 
 utes passed, and Willard, concerned with the fact 
 that train time was approaching, grew nervous; 
 which, perhaps, accounted for a momentary lapse 
 from watchfulness. At all events, the approach- 
 ing pedestrian, coming along on the school side 
 of the cross street, was scarcely a dozen yards 
 'distant when Willard saw him. The latter 's 
 warning might, it seemed, have been heard a mile 
 away. 
 
 "Beat it!" yelled Willard. 
 
 Afterwards he explained that shouting w^as 
 quicker than whistling, and that if he had taken 
 time to pucker his lips they would never have got 
 away without being seen. 
 
 They came together a block down the main 
 thoroughfare, breathless and hilarious. "He he 
 toent in the gate," panted Bob. "I saw him. 
 Looked like one of the faculty, too. Gee, it was 
 a lucky thing he didn't catch us! D-did you get 
 it done, Cal?"
 
 BLACK PAINT 247 
 
 "Just! I was going over the naught a second 
 time when I heard Brand yell. I had the paint 
 can in one hand and the brush in the other and 
 I just heaved 'em both over the wall and ran!" 
 
 "I'll bet it looks great," chuckled Martin. 
 
 "I know it does," answered Cal proudly. "I 
 made the letters and figures as big as that." He 
 held his hands nearly a yard apart. "It took 
 most of the paint, too. Brick's awfully hard to 
 work on. What did you do with Brand's hand- 
 kerchief, Bob?" 
 
 "Gave it back," said Bob. 
 
 "No, you didn't," denied Willard. 
 
 "Didn't I? I thought I did. Meant to, any- 
 way. Must have dropped it somewhere, then. 
 Wipe your hands on your own hanky. That's 
 what you told me to do!" 
 
 "I will like fun," muttered Cal. "I'll bet the 
 stuff is all over me, hang it!" 
 
 "You can wash up at the station," said Martin. 
 "Who knows when the cars run over to Dar- 
 lington 1 ' ' 
 
 An uneasy silence followed. Then Bob said: 
 "What about it, Cal? You asked, didn't you?" 
 
 "I asked when the trains went," replied Cal. 
 "I I suppose the cars go every ten minutes or 
 so, don't they?"
 
 248 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "What time is it now?" asked Martin bruskly, 
 
 "Five to eight," answered Willard. 
 
 With one accord the four broke into a trot. "If 
 we miss that train we're dished!" said Bob. 
 "Seems to me you'd find out something, Cal, while 
 you were at it! What time does the train go?" 
 
 < ' Eight-thirty-eight, ' ' replied Cal. ' * You didn 't 
 ask me to find out about the trolley. I thought you 
 knew about it. How was I to know " 
 
 "Save your breath for running," advised Bob 
 coldly. "If we can't get a trolley we'll have to 
 foot it." 
 
 "Gee, we'll never do it in thirty minutes!" ex- 
 claimed Martin. 
 
 "We'll have to," said Bob grimly, "if we can't 
 get a car. If we're not back at school by ten we'll 
 get fits. And then, if the faculty over here makes 
 a fuss about those signs, why, we'll be nabbed!" 
 
 "I told you it was too risky," mourned Martin. 
 
 "Well, you took a hand in it, didn't you?" asked 
 Bob shortly. "Shut up and get a move on! Isn't 
 that the square ahead there?" 
 
 It was, and when, very much out of breath, the 
 quartette reached it, a car obligingly swung 
 around a corner and paused in front of a waiting 
 station a block away. "Come on!" yelled CaL 
 "That's ours!"
 
 BLACK PAINT 249 
 
 Of course, having reached it and staggered 
 breathlessly inside, they had to sit there for quite 
 ten minutes before the car resumed its journey. 
 But they were too grateful to mind that, and, al- 
 though Willard looked at his watch frequently and 
 anxiously, the conductor assured them that, if 
 'they didn't burn out a fuse or run off the track 
 or if the power didn't give out, they would reach 
 the Darlington station eight minutes before train 
 time. Bob advised Cal to keep his hands out of 
 sight and Cal hung them down between his knees 
 all the way. The conductor's prediction proved 
 correct, and, as there were no misadventures on 
 the journey, Cal was able to eradicate most of 
 the paint from his hands before the train arrived. 
 To his disgust, however, he discovered that his 
 coat and trousers were liberally specked with 
 black, and when Bob told him cheerfully that the 
 paint wouldn 't be very noticeable on mixed goods 
 he became quite angry. In the end they reached 
 the Academy well before ten o'clock and unob- 
 trusively sought their rooms, everyone very 
 weary and, if the truth must be told, rather short- 
 tempered by now.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 EVIDENCE 
 
 COACH CADE was pleased with Saturday's game, 
 and said so. So, too, was the school in general. 
 In fact, it seemed that the school found more en- 
 couragement than was warranted. One heard a 
 good deal on Sunday about what Alton was going 
 to do to Kenly when the time came. Doubtless 
 much of this optimism was due to the arrival of 
 Felix McNatt in the backfield, which, with the 
 placing of Proctor at left tackle, appeared tr 
 round out the team remarkably. Certainly there 
 was little in Saturday's victory over a palpably 
 weaker opponent to account for all the enthusi- 
 asm which spread over the school like a con- 
 tagion. 
 
 Sunday afternoon, walking across to Academy 
 Hall to post a letter, Willard encountered Mc- 
 Natt bent on a similar errand. McNatt showed 
 evidences of having played football recently, for 
 three strips of adhesive plaster formed a star 
 over one cheek-bone. Having dropped their let- 
 
 250
 
 EVIDENCE 251 
 
 ters in the box beside the entrance, the two boys 
 stood for a few minutes and talked. McNatt was 
 evidently a trifle discouraged about his mission of 
 reforming football on a more scientific basis. 
 
 "Mr. Cade says there's a good deal in it, but 
 thinks the ah impetus should come from the 
 colleges. Now I don't agree with him there, Har- 
 mon By the way, is your name Harmon or 
 Brand? I heard some of the players calling you 
 [Brand yesterday." 
 
 "Harmon. Brand's just a nickname." 
 "I see. Well, as I was saying, I don't think 
 [Mr. Cade is right. I believe that if we fellows 
 at this school developed the game along the lines 
 jthat you and I have discussed so frequently, others 
 ;would follow. There there 'd be a movement, 
 Harmon. If we look to the colleges to make the 
 start we'll have to wait a long time, I fear. In my 
 opinion colleges are extremely conservative in the 
 matter of football, especially the larger ones, the 
 s ah the leaders. Of course I realize that the 
 season is so far advanced that any extreme 
 changes now would possibly militate against the 
 team's success. Nevertheless, I am hoping that 
 OMr. Cade will decide to experiment in a small way. 
 I have spoken to quite a number of the players 
 and they all appeared most interested. In fact,
 
 252 LEFT HALF HAEMON 
 
 I don't recall that any of them offered a serious 
 criticism." 
 
 "I guess it'll take time," murmured Willard. 
 "Great ideas generally have to to overcome a 
 good deal of opposition, don't you think? How 
 does it seem to be playing again, McNatt f ' ' 
 
 The full-back's face lighted. "Splendid," he 
 replied. "Do you know, Harmon, I didn't sup- 
 pose I could find so much pleasure in the game 
 again. Of course I realize that I'm still rather 
 stale, but it's coming back to me, it's coming 
 back." McNatt nodded gravely. "I make mis- 
 takes and I'm frightfully slow, but with practice 
 I'll improve. At least, I hope to," he corrected 
 modestly. "It's possible, though, that I shan't do 
 as well as I should. The fact is, Harmon, I'm 
 conscious of the variance of thought that exists 
 between those in charge of the team and me. I 
 approach the problem confronting us scientific- 
 ally. They approach it in the old hit-or-miss 
 style. I strive not to let the lack of shall I say? 
 harmony trouble me, but I fear it does at times. 
 So often, when the quarter-back signals one play, 
 I know that the situation calls for another, and 
 I fear that the absence of a sympathetic approval 
 of the play demanded sometimes ah uncon- 
 sciously reduces my enthusiasm for it. And,
 
 EVIDENCE 253 
 
 really, one must be thoroughly convinced of the 
 propriety of a play before one can go into it 
 wholeheartedly, just as one must be convinced 
 as to any other act. You see what I mean, 
 Harmon?" 
 
 1 'Oh, absolutely," answered Willard, "abso- 
 lutely! But, really, McNatt, I wouldn't trouble 
 much about that. Seems to me you've been play- 
 ing a mighty sweet game." 
 
 "You think so?" asked the other doubtfully. 
 "I don't know. If only it was possible to give 
 reasoning thought to the conduct of the game! 
 But it will come, I'm certain of that. Meanwhile 
 I shall do the best I can." 
 
 "I'm sure of that," said Willard earnestly. 
 
 "There's just one thing that might happen," 
 resumed McNatt as they strolled away from 
 Academy, knitting his brows. "Some time that 
 quarter-back is his name Tarbox?" 
 
 "Tarver, Gilbert Tarver," replied Willard 
 gravely. 
 
 "I think I've called him Tarbox several times. 
 Well, as I was saying, there is a possibility that 
 some time he may call a play that I shall sub- 
 consciously rebel against and, under a certain 
 mental condition, it might be that I would ah 
 spill the beans."
 
 254 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 Willard went off into a gale of laughter. Me- 
 Natt viewed him in mild surprise. ''I'm afraid," 
 he said, gently reproving, "the result would be 
 far from humorous. It is conceivable that it 
 migkt, happening at a crucial moment in 
 the contest, even prove disastrous to our for- 
 tunes!" 
 
 "I I wasn't laughing at that," moaned Wil- 
 lard, wiping his streaming eyes. "I was laugh- 
 ing at at your slang!" 
 
 "Slang? Oh!" McNatt smiled. "I dare say 
 it did sound queer. I pick up quite a good deal of 
 slang from Winfred. Well, I must get back. I'm 
 working on a plan that will, I think, produce more 
 certainty of result to the kick-off. You may have 
 noticed how seldom the team in possession of 
 the ball at the kick-off is able to concentrate de- 
 fensively in the locality of the catch. My idea, if 
 it proves practical and I think it will would en- 
 able the team to know where the ball would de- 
 scend and so concentrate on that point. Well, 
 I'll see you again, Harmon." 
 
 Willard reported the conversation to Martin, 
 who was doing his best today to convince himself 
 that what had every appearance of a cold in the 
 head was merely a touch of hay fever, and Mar- 
 tin mixed laughter with his sniffles. "The poor
 
 EVIDENCE 255 
 
 nut," hie said. "He'd try to introduce science 
 into eating a fried egg if he thought of it ! How 
 the dickens can the team know where a kick-off 
 is going to land when the fellow who kicks the 
 ball doesn't know himself half the time? I sup- 
 pose his idea is to have the ball brought back if 
 it doesn't go where it's expected to! Say, Brand, 
 remind me to get a Darlington paper tomorrow, 
 will you? There ought to be something about last 
 night's job in it. I'll bet those fresh chumps over 
 at Hillsport are hopping mad today!" 
 
 < ' That 's a safe bet, ' ' laughed Willard. ' ' I only 
 hope they're not mad enough to raise a row about 
 
 it " 
 
 11. , 
 
 "How could they?" asked Martin indignantly. 
 "Didn't they do the same thing to us last fall? 
 Much good it would do 'em if they did get sore ! 
 I guess faculty would have a pretty good come- 
 back, son! Anyhow, you should worry. You 
 didn't have anything to do with it. Any more 
 than I did," added Martin after a moment. 
 
 Willard laughed. "It sounds fine the way you 
 say it, Mart," he answered, "but I guess faculty 
 would have a lot of trouble getting your point of 
 view. We were right there, old chap, and we 
 even kept watch while the the nefarious deed 
 was perpetrated."
 
 256 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "Where do you get that talk?" demanded Mar- 
 tin, punctuating the question with three mighty 
 sneezes. "You'd better keep away from McNatt, 
 son. You're catching it! Brand, just so long as 
 my conscience is at rest I care naught for what 
 faculty may say or do. And I've got what is 
 prohably the most restful conscience in cap- 
 tivity!" 
 
 "Well, I guess Hillsport's too good a sport to 
 make a howl," replied Willard. "Gal's clothes 
 are simply covered with paint, Bob says. And he 
 doesn't dare wear them for fear faculty might 
 notice and get a line on what happened. He's 
 going to smuggle them over to the tailor's and 
 have 'em cleaned." 
 
 "Well, he would have a hand in it," said Mar- 
 tin complacently. "You didn't see me begging to 
 be allowed to desecrate the walls of the dear old 
 town, did you? I knew better. Paint always 
 spatters, especially when you try to put it on 
 bricks. I could have told Cal that, but he's so 
 blamed knowing that he wouldn't have paid any 
 attention to me." Martin sneezed again and 
 shook his head. "It was coming over in that old 
 trolley that gave me this cold. I guess I got 
 worse than a spoiled suit out of the adventure. 
 If I don't manage to break this up tonight I'll
 
 EVIDENCE 257 
 
 be out of football for days! I know these colds 
 of mine." 
 
 "I thought you said it was hay-fever," re- 
 marked Willard innocently. 
 
 Martin growled. "It's more than a month too 
 late for hay-fever, I guess." He seized his hand- 
 kerchief, opened his mouth and twitched his nose. 
 Nothing happened, however, and he relapsed 
 again, with a dismal shake of his head. "It's get- 
 ting worse all the time," he muttered. "Is there 
 a window open anywhere?" 
 
 "No, but I'll open one," answered Willard 
 obligingly. 
 
 "Don't be a silly ass," requested the other. "If 
 you had this grippe you wouldn't be so plaguey 
 comic!" 
 
 "It's growing fast," laughed Willard. "An 
 hour ago it was just hay-fever. Then it was a 
 cold. Now it's grippe. Better see a doctor, Mart, 
 before pneumonia sets in!" 
 
 "Oh, shut up! What time is it?" 
 
 "Almost time for supper. What shall I bring 
 you? Do you care for milk-toast!" 
 
 "I do not ! And I'll look after my own supper. 
 I guess maybe some food will do me good. If it 
 turned out to be influenza I'd be all the better for 
 having lots of strength. It's weakened constitu-
 
 258 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 tions that cause so many fatalities. A fellow 
 wants power of resistance, I guess." 
 
 "Well, I don't know about that, but a clean 
 handkerchief wouldn't hurt!" 
 
 Monday introduced real November weather. 
 The sky was overcast when Willard piled out of 
 bed in the morning, and a cold breeze was blow- 
 ing from the east. Eadiators were sizzling and 
 the bath-robed, gossiping groups were noticeably 
 absent from the corridor when he set forth 
 for the lavatory. Winter was in the air, 
 and the coffee at breakfast never tasted so 
 good. 
 
 It was just before ten that Willard received the 
 disturbing message from the school office. Mr. 
 Wharton, the secretary, desired to see him im- 
 mediately after twelve. Oddly, perhaps, Willard 
 failed to connect the summons with the Hillsport 
 episode for some time. All during his ten o'clock 
 recitation he subconsciously tried to think of some 
 neglected study or duty that would account for 
 the secretary's desire for his company, and it 
 wasn't until he had disposed of that explanation 
 by the slow process of elimination that Saturday 
 night's affair obtruded itself. 
 
 He didn't allow that to alarm him, though. 
 After all, a mere prank of that sort, common
 
 EVIDENCE 259 
 
 wherever there were boys* schools, couldn't be 
 taken very seriously. In any case, he would get 
 off with a reprimand. What bothered him more 
 was the question of how Mr. Wharton had man- 
 aged to associate him with the affair, and he won- 
 dered whether Martin and the others were wanted 
 at the office also. He hoped to run across one 
 or the other of them and compare notes, but luck 
 was against him, and as soon as he was released 
 from classroom at twelve he set forth a trifle 
 uneasily down the corridor to the office. 
 
 He had to wait several minutes while the sec- 
 retary heard and denied a freckle-faced fresh- 
 man's request for leave of absence over the next 
 Sunday and then he made his identity known and 
 received a distinct shock when Mr. Wharton 
 jerked a thumb over his shoulder and said: " Doc- 
 tor McPherson." 
 
 The thumb indicated a closed door across the 
 width of the outer office. Although Willard had 
 never passed through that portal, he knew that 
 it admitted to the Principal's sanctum. His con- 
 fidence waned as he opened the gate in the rail- 
 ing, heard it click behind him and hesitated before 
 the blank portal. 
 
 "You needn't knock," said the secretary, over 
 his shoulder. "The Doctor expects you."
 
 260 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 Willard thought the latter sentence sounded 
 horribly grim! 
 
 The Principal's office, unlike the outer room, 
 was large and spacious, with a flood of pale light 
 entering by three big windows that overlooked the 
 Green. A half-dozen mahogany armchairs stood 
 about the room, a wide bookcase almost filled one 
 wall space and a huge table-desk, remarkably free 
 from books or papers occupied the geometrical 
 center of the soft green rug. At the desk, his 
 back toward the windows, sat Doctor Maitland 
 McPherson, a man of well under fifty years, thin- 
 visaged, clean-shaven, somewhat bald. He laid 
 aside the book he had been reading at Willard's 
 entrance, slipping an ivory marker between the 
 pages before he closed it, and nodded pleasantly. 
 
 "Harmon?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Bring one of those chairs here, please, and be 
 seated." 
 
 Willard followed instructions and then looked 
 inquiringly across the few feet of shining ma- 
 hogany and green blotting pad to the countenance 
 of the Principal. This was his first close view 
 of Doctor McPherson, although he had seen him 
 at least once every day. Usually the length of 
 the assembly hall separated them, and just now
 
 EVIDENCE 261 
 
 Willard wished mightily that it still separated 
 them. Not that the Doctor looked very formid- 
 able, for he didn't. He wasn't a large man, and 
 his strength and vigor were evidently that of the 
 mind rather than of the body. His brown eyes, 
 rather golden brown, were soft and kindly, and 
 two deep creases that led from the corners of his 
 short, straight nose to the ends of his rather wide 
 mouth suggested that he preferred smiling to 
 frowning. Even now there was a smile on the 
 Doctor's face, although it wasn't a smile that en- 
 couraged the caller to emulate it. 
 
 "I presume," said the Doctor, "that you know 
 why I sent for you, Harmon." 
 
 "No, sir," answered Willard, honestly enough, 
 
 "Keallylf" The Doctor's grizzled brows went 
 up in faint surprise. Leisurely, he swung his 
 chair a little and opened the upper left-hand draw; 
 beside him. Then he laid something midway be- 
 tween him and Willard, something that by its ap- 
 pearance seemed to desecrate the immaculateness 
 of the mahogany on which it rested. It was a 
 crumpled object, white in places, black in other 
 places, smeared and stiffened. In brief, it was a 
 white handkerchief befouled with black paint. 
 
 "Have you ever seen that before, Harmon!" 
 asked the Doctor.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 BOB SAYS SO 
 
 WZLLARD'S heart sank. There was no need to pick 
 the thing up for closer examination. Its crum- 
 pled, distasteful folds showed one border miss- 
 ing, and, if evidence had still been lacking, closer 
 inspection would have elicited the fact that, half 
 obliterated by a paint smudge, the word " Har- 
 mon" was plainly printed on a corner. It was 
 the handkerchief that he had given to Bob New- 
 hall Saturday night to wipe his hands on. 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied Willard. 
 
 "When and where?" asked the Doctor quietly. 
 
 "Last Saturday night, sir, at Hillsport. 
 
 The Doctor picked the object up gingerly and 
 dropped it back in the drawer. Then he closed 
 the drawer slowly and gazed thoughtfully for a 
 short moment at the book he had laid aside. 
 
 "I have received a very indignant letter from 
 Doctor Handley, at Hillsport School," he said 
 presently. "He tells me that some time during 
 Saturday night the wall of his residence was de- 
 faced with black paint in urn in ill-advised
 
 BOB SAYS SO 263 
 
 celebration of Alton's football victory over Hills- 
 port." 
 
 Willard gasped. "We I didn't know it was 
 his wall, sir!" he exclaimed. 
 
 "Is that true 1 ? You didn't know that Doctor 
 Handley's residence stood at the corner, across 
 from the school entrance?" 
 
 "No, sir," answered the boy earnestly. "I'd 
 never been there before, sir." 
 
 "But the others? They must have known." 
 
 "The others?" stammered Willard. 
 
 "Yes," replied the Doctor gently. "You said 
 'we' a moment ago." 
 
 Willard reddened. "I I corrected myself," 
 he answered. 
 
 Doctor McPherson smiled whimsically and 
 shook his head. "I wouldn't call it a correction, 
 Harmon. You see, it's extremely unlikely that 
 you would have engaged in such a such an 
 amusement by yourself. Defacing property in 
 that manner is 'gang work': I've never known it 
 otherwise." 
 
 Willard gulped. "Yes, air- Well, none of us 
 knew that wall was Doctor Doctor " 
 
 "Handley's?" asked the Principal helpfully. 
 
 "Yes, sir. We wouldn't have done it for any- 
 thing if we had known. We we just wanted to
 
 264 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 get even with those fellows for what they did 
 to us last year. They painted green signs all 
 around town here, sir, and we thought it was per- 
 fectly fair to get back at them. That's all there 
 was to it.*' 
 
 "A very silly proceeding, Harmon. Defacing 
 the property of others is a particularly mean and 
 contemptible form of mischief. And the fact that 
 the Hillsport boys indulged in it was no excuse. 
 Indeed, the appearance of your own town should 
 have shown you how atrocious such vandalism is. 
 I sympathize with the resentment that was felt 
 here last fall when it was found that Hillsport 
 had scrawled the score on our fences and walls, 
 but I do not sympathize in the least with the mo- 
 tive that led you and your companions to commit 
 the same indecency, Harmon. Another thing is 
 that Hillsport was careful not to deface school 
 property. Indeed, as I recall, she displayed some 
 care in the selection of old fences and such places 
 for her um decorations. In your case you seem 
 to have tried to do as much damage as possible." 
 
 "But we didn't know, sir!" protested Wiilard 
 again. 
 
 "And that I find hard to believe," replied the 
 Doctor, shaking his head. "How many times did 
 you paint the score up?"
 
 BOB SAYS SO 265 
 
 "Only twice. The first time on a stable or 
 something. We looked for fences and things like 
 that, but there weren't any, sir. And we wanted 
 to put it where the Hillsport fellows would be 
 sure to see it, and finally we found that wall! It 
 was outside the school grounds and we didn't any 
 of us know it was the Principal's house. We 
 wouldn't have thought of doing it there if we'd 
 known. It was just just a joke, sir!" 
 
 "A frightfully poor one, Harmon! Who were 
 the others with you ? ' ' 
 
 Willard dropped his gaze and a moment of si- 
 lence passed. When he raised his eyes again it 
 was to look rather miserably at the Doctor and 
 shake his head. "I guess I oughtn't to say, sir," 
 he answered in low tones. 
 
 "I shan't insist," said the Doctor gently. "I 
 know how you fellows look at such things. I can't 
 help reflecting, however, Harmon, that your code 
 of honor as regards matters amongst yourselves 
 is somewhat finer than you display in other mat- 
 ters. You don't hesitate, it appears, to daub black 
 paint over a man's brick wall, although that man 
 has never offended you in the least, but you're 
 outraged at the mere thought of giving informa- 
 tion against companions who have aided you in 
 your offenses. Well, you shall suit yourself. I
 
 266 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 think it my duty, though, to point out to you that, 
 in deciding on the proper punishment in your 
 case, the question of whether you knew or did not 
 know that you were defacing property belonging 
 to the school and occupied by the school Principal 
 is important. You tell me that you did now know 
 and that the others did not know. If, as you say, 
 you had not been in Hillsport before, I am in- 
 clined to believe what you tell me of yourself, but 
 I cannot take your word for the others, Harmon. 
 It seems to me extremely unlikely that one or 
 more of them did not know whose property it 
 was. If I knew their names I could question them 
 and find out. As I don't know their names I am 
 forced to give more credence to the probabilities 
 than to your testimony. You see, Harmon, the 
 affair looks very much like a deliberate insult to 
 Doctor Handley, and it certainly calls for an apol- 
 ogy. In apologizing I'd like greatly to be able to 
 assure him that the affair was merely a school- 
 boy prank and that the depredators were not 
 aware that it was his property they were defiling. 
 But I can't tell him that without more evidence 
 than your unsupported testimony affords me. Is 
 that clear to you?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," answered Willard unhappily. 
 
 "And you still prefer not to give me the names
 
 BOB SAYS SO 267 
 
 of the others ! Remember that I shall make every 
 effort to find out and shall doubtless succeed." 
 
 "I I'd rather not, sir," answered Willard 
 steadily. 
 
 "In that case there is no more to be said. Pend- 
 ing a decision as to what disciplinary measures 
 shall be taken, Harmon, you will observe hall re- 
 strictions. I am very sorry this has happened, 
 iny boy, and I hope it will lead you to a um 
 greater respect for the rights and property of 
 others. Good morning, Harmon." 
 
 Willard stood up, rather pale but very straight. 
 "I'm sorry I can't tell you about the others, sir," 
 he said earnestly, "but but I don't believe you'd 
 act any different yourself if you were in my place. 
 And I'll take the punishment without kicking, 
 Doctor McPherson. But, just the same, it doesn't 
 seem fair to me that those fellows should get 
 away with what they did and we I should get 
 punished for doing no more. We didn't know we 
 were painting up Doctor Handley's wall. You 
 needn't believe me unless you want to, but it's so! 
 What what's he want to live outside the school 
 for, anyway?" Willard ended in an indignant 
 wail and the Doctor's mouth trembled in a smile. 
 
 "If your idea is to shift the blame to Doctor 
 Handley," answered the Principal dryly, "I'm
 
 268 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 afraid it won't work! You'll hear from me later, 
 Harmon. Good morning." 
 
 "Good morning, sir," murmured Willard. 
 
 He found Martin hidden behind a newspaper 
 when he got back to the room, and so absorbed 
 was the reader that not until the door had 
 slammed shut did he know of Willard 's entry. 
 Then he showed perturbed countenance above 
 the Darlington Daily Messenger. "Seen this, 
 Brand?" he asked ominously. Willard shook his 
 head and took the proffered paper. The Hills- 
 port correspondent had made quite a story of it. 
 
 VISITING VANDALS DEFACE PROPERTY 
 
 Saturday's Football Game at Hillsport Com- 
 memorated by Smears of Paint 
 
 "Hillsport, Nov. 4: This town awoke on Sunday 
 morning to find that some time during the preceding 
 night vandals had been at work with paint and brush. 
 In a number of conspicuous places the score of Satur- 
 day's football game between Hillsport and Alton 
 Academy was set forth in great black figures. To the 
 youthful perpetrators of the outrage no place was 
 sacred, for the ornamental brick wall about Principal 
 Handley's residence, adjoining the school campus, was 
 one of the sites selected for the derisive inscription. 
 On Parker Street, the stable belonging to Chief of 
 Police Starbuck likewise tells the story of Alton 
 Academy's football victory. Probably other instances of 
 property defacement will be found, but these so far are 
 the most glaring that have come to light. Indignation 
 is widespread and both town and school authorities
 
 BOB SAYS SO 269 
 
 propose to use every effort to bring the guilty persons 
 to justice. While complete evidence is still lacking, it 
 is generally believed that certain of the visiting party 
 of Alton Academy students, over-excited by an unusual 
 and unlocked for triumph over the local school, re- 
 mained behind on Saturday evening and celebrated the 
 victory in this reprehensible fashion. Indeed, it has 
 been already established that four or five Alton youths 
 were seen about town as late as half-past six or seven 
 that evening. Unfortunately for them, the miscreants 
 left a clue which if followed will undoubtedly lead to 
 their apprehension. This is now in the hands of Chief 
 of Police Starbuck. We understand that Principal 
 Handley is already in correspondence with the authori- 
 ties at Alton Academy and that the wanton defacement 
 of school property will not be allowed to pass un- 
 punished. ' ' 
 
 Willard handed the paper back in silence. 
 Martin grinned. "Have you anything to say be- 
 fore sentence is passed?" he asked sepulchrally. 
 
 "Sentence has been passed, so far as I'm con- 
 cerned," answered Willard. Martin stared. 
 Then: 
 
 "What do you mean?" he demanded anxiously. 
 
 "I mean that I've just come from a fine mo- 
 ment with Doctor McPherson. That Principal 
 over there, Handley or whatever his silly name is, 
 has written to the Doctor, and sent that clue 
 along, too." 
 
 "Wow!" muttered Martin awedly. "Wha 
 what was the clue?" 
 
 "My handkerchief."
 
 270 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "Good night!" 
 
 "And sweet dreams," added Willard iron- 
 ically. 
 
 "What did lie say?" asked Martin after a mo- 
 ment of painful thought. Willard shrugged. 
 
 "He said a lot! He wasn't so bad, though. I'll 
 have to say that for him. I'm on hall bounds until 
 the faculty gets together and decides whether I'm 
 to be boiled in oil or merely drawn and quar- 
 tered. You fellows may get by all right, though. 
 I'm the only one they're sure of so far. Why the 
 dickens didn't someone say that that brick wall 
 was the Principal's?" 
 
 "How were we to know?" demanded Martin. 
 "Why doesn't he live inside where he ought to I 
 Say, we managed to pick a couple of fine spots, 
 didn't we? It was a clever idea to paint up the 
 side of the Chief of Police's barn! Oh, we were 
 a grand little bunch of nuts!" And Martin 
 laughed mirthlessly. 
 
 "Yes," agreed Willard, "we surely managed 
 to do things up brown while we were doing!" 
 
 "Didn't you tell 'Mac' that you didn't have 
 anything to do with it?" 
 
 "That would have been a fine song-and-dance!" 
 jeered Willard. "What if I didn't do any of the 
 actual painting! I went along, didn't I? Be-
 
 BOB SAYS SO 271 
 
 sides, there was my handkerchief, all stuck up 
 with black paint. He didn't waste any time ask- 
 ing me whether I'd done it. All he wanted to 
 know was who the others were." 
 
 "You might as well have told him," said Mar- 
 tin gloomily. "He'll find out quick enough." 
 
 "I don't think so," answered Willard. "No 
 one saw us come back, and short of taking the 
 whole school over there and letting the restaurant 
 folks pick you fellows out, I don't see how they're 
 going to tell." 
 
 Martin brightened. Then his face fell again. 
 "We'll have to fess up, Brand. It wouldn't be 
 fair to let you stand the whole racket." 
 
 "That's a swell idea," answered the other de- 
 risively. "You and Bob off the team would help 
 a lot, wouldn't it?" 
 
 "We-ell " Martin scowled in concentrated 
 study of the problem. Then: "Look here," he 
 said, "a fellow's got to eat, anyway. Let's go to 
 dinner. Afterwards we'll find Bob and " 
 
 His remark was interrupted by a knock at the 
 door followed by the entrance of Bob himself, a 
 somewhat troubled looking Bob who, without no- 
 ticing anything unusual in the looks of the room- 
 mates, plunged into speech. "Say, fellows," he 
 announced, lowering himself into a chair and
 
 272 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 viewing them frowningly, "I'm not quite easy in 
 my mind about that business the other night." 
 
 "Really?" asked Martin. "How strange!" 
 
 The sarcasm was lost, however. Bob shook his 
 head and went on. "No, because I have a hor- 
 rible suspicion that I tied that handkerchief to 
 the handle of the paint can, Brand. And if I did 
 they'll find it, sure as shooting. I I suppose it 
 had your initials on it, eh?" 
 
 Willard shook his head. "No," he answered 
 gently. 
 
 "Honest?" Bob perked up. "Then it won't 
 matter if they do find it, will it? Gee, I was get- 
 ting sort of worried! You see, I thought first I'd 
 given it back to you, Brand, and then I thought 
 I'd thrown it away, but Cal said last night that he 
 sort of remembered feeling it around the handle 
 and I sort of half remember putting it there. But 
 if it didn't have any mark on it, we should 
 worry." 
 
 "I didn't say that," corrected Willard. "I 
 said it didn't have any initials, and it didn't. All 
 it had was 'Harmon', in nice big letters." 
 
 "Great Scott!" gasped Bob. 
 
 "By the way, you haven't cast your eye over 
 the Darlington paper by any chance, hare you?" 
 drawled Martin.
 
 BOB SAYS SO 273 
 
 "No. Is there anything in it?" asked Bob anx- 
 iously. 
 
 "Why, yes, you might say so. Like to look at 
 it!" 
 
 Bob viewed the others with growing disquiet. 
 "What's the joke?" he demanded, scowling. 
 "What are you two fellows so blamed creepy 
 about? Let's see that paper!" 
 
 Willard and Martin said nothing until Bob had 
 finished the story. Then: "Looks like we might 
 have a bit o' weather," drawled Martin. 
 
 Bob laid the paper down softly and grinned in 
 sickly fashion. 
 
 "I'll say so," he answered.
 
 CHAPTER XXH 
 
 ON PROBATION 
 
 BY mid-afternoon the news was all over school 
 and conjecture was rife. Alton took it as a fine 
 joke and laughed and chuckled enjoyably. Hills- 
 port had been paid back in her own coin, and 
 painting the football score on Principal Hand- 
 ley's sacred wall was considered a veritable 
 master-stroke of genius! Decorating the prem- 
 ises of Hillsport's chief of police was also looked 
 on approvingly, for, while it lacked the magnifi- 
 cence of the other effort, it nevertheless held a 
 touch of daring that kindled youthful enthusiasm, 
 Some of the seniors shook their heads and soberly 
 predicted trouble, but others, knowing themselves 
 innocent, were unconcerned with that feature of 
 the affair. They wouldn't have to suffer, so why 
 worry? Oddly enough, the identity of the heroes 
 remained a mystery, although many fellows 
 looked wise and pretended to be able to tell a 
 lot if they would. To Bob and Martin and the 
 others it seemed impossible that none should re- 
 call the fact that they had remained behind when 
 
 274
 
 ON PROBATION 275 
 
 the car that bore the football players had left the 
 school. But things had been confused that after- 
 noon and excitement had reigned, and if anyone 
 did recall that significant fact none made mention 
 of it. You may be certain that none of the four 
 jogged the memories of any of the others! 
 
 Hall restrictions, or hall bounds in student 
 phraseology, was ordinarily not a very severe in- 
 fliction. You went to chapel, classes and meals 
 as usual, but for the rest you stayed in your dor- 
 mitory building and let the world wag along with- 
 out you. You were allowed the freedom of the 
 recreation room downstairs and you could, if the 
 hall master saw fit to allow, visit other fellows 
 in the building. So long as you were not engaged 
 in athletic activities you didn't suffer greatly, al- 
 though after a few days the regime began to seem 
 decidedly monotonous. In Willard's case hall 
 bounds was a real punishment since it meant no 
 more football, and he had very dreary thoughts 
 that Monday afternoon. As required, he had ac- 
 quainted Manager Boss of his forced absence 
 from the field, and Ross had scowled and scolded, 
 and even stormed a little, but had not, appar- 
 ently, connected the fact with the happening at 
 Hillsport on Saturday night. 
 
 Willard didn't dare prophesy to himself what
 
 276 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 the outcome would be. He had a well-developed 
 notion that fellows had been expelled from Alton 
 School for misdemeanors no more heinous. In 
 any case, he was quite certain that there would be 
 no more football for him that fall, since even if, 
 by a miracle, his punishment should be ultimately 
 no worse than at present, a week or a fortnight 
 of absence from practice would end his usefulness 
 to the team. Coach Cade, he reflected grimly, 
 wasn't going to hold the left half-back position 
 open for him ! There were moments when he felt 
 somewhat aggrieved and when he told himself 
 bitterly that it wasn't fair that he should be made 
 the goat for the whole crowd. But second thought 
 did away with all that. If he could keep the 
 others out of it, he decided, he would do it un- 
 grudgingly, even if it cost his dismissal. After 
 all, the success of the football team was the big 
 thing, and, although he couldn't help any longer 
 with his playing, he could help a whole big lot by 
 keeping his tongue still. 
 
 If Willard couldn't visit outside Haylow, there 
 was nothing to prevent occupants of other dormi- 
 tories visiting him, and after practice that after- 
 noon four disturbed and perturbed youths sat in 
 Number 16 and faced a puzzling situation. Mar- 
 tin was strong for confessing and making a public
 
 ON PROBATION 277 
 
 apology to Doctor Handley at Hillsport, in the 
 hope that the Alton faculty would be lenient. He 
 was decidedly obstinate in the matter, and it took 
 much persuasion from Willard and Cal to alter 
 his view. Bob was the least talkative of the four. 
 He said he was perfectly willing to do whatever 
 the others decided was best, but he offered no 
 opinions. Bob blamed himself for the whole af- 
 fair, from first to last, ignoring the fact that Cal 
 had originated the scheme, and insisted that if it 
 hadn't been for his carelessness it would never 
 have been connected with Willard. Mea culpa 
 was written large on Bob's countenance and Mar- 
 tin's repeated assertion that they were all tarred 
 with the same brush an allusion that made Cal 
 wince, in view of the fact that his gray suit was 
 costing him two and a half dollars for cleansing 
 had no effect on his melancholy. 
 
 In the end it was Willard whose words pro- 
 duced conviction. "You fellows make me tired," 
 he declared impatiently. "What's the use of go- 
 ing all over it a dozen times? The whole thing's 
 just this: If you fellows squeal on yourselves it 
 isn't going to do me any good, so far as I can 
 see, and it'll just about bust up the team. With! 
 the best right guard and left tackle out for the 
 rest of the year, what's going to happen! You
 
 your places in the little time that's left. "We'd get 
 licked good and hard, and that's all there is to 
 that. As for faculty being lenient, well, maybe 
 they might be, but you can bet being lenient won't 
 let any of us play football! If we'd done some- 
 thing perfectly mean and putrid I'd say fess up 
 and take the medicine, but we haven't. We didn't 
 any of us know that Doctor Thingumbob lived 
 in that house. We were just playing a practical 
 joke and the rest was simply tough luck. You 
 fellows just keep your silly mouths shut and go 
 on and play football and lick the hide off Kenly. 
 That's all you need to do. I'll take the punish- 
 ment, whatever it is, and keep right on smiling. 
 There's just one thing I won't stand for, though." 
 iWillard looked at Bob and Martin fiercely. "If 
 I get canned and you fellows don't beat Kenly 
 I'll come back here and I'll I'll mighty near kill 
 you!" 
 
 1 'Oh, dry up," muttered Bob. "You know 
 blamed well we'll claw the wool off those guys, 
 Brand! You don't have to talk that way." 
 
 "It isn't right, though," said Martin. 
 
 "It's as right as anything we can do," asserted 
 Cal. "We haven't done anything criminal, even 
 if faculty thinks we have. Brand's got the right
 
 ON PKOBATION 279 
 
 dope, fellows. There's no use killing off the team 
 just to to salve our consciences. Look here, I 
 don't play football. I'll go in with Brand. 
 Maybe Mac will be easier if there's two of us." 
 
 "Oh, don't play the silly goat," begged Wil- 
 lard. "What good would it do? Where's the 
 sense of two getting canned, maybe, instead of 
 one ? Stop chewing the rag, for the love of mud ! 
 And pull your face together, Bob, before it 
 freezes that way. Gosh, anyone would think you 
 were going to be hung! You fellows beat it out 
 of here before someone suspects, and stop looking 
 like the criminals you are!" 
 
 Willard carried the day. 
 
 During the next few days Doctor McPherson 
 summoned various students before him and ques- 
 tioned them, but learned nothing new. The 
 weekly faculty meeting was held Wednesday 
 evening, and Thursday morning Willard found a 
 buff envelope on the mail board in the lower cor- 
 ridor of Haylow. Inside was a request that he 
 call on the Principal that afternoon at half-past 
 four at his residence. 
 
 "Would you pack up now or wait until after- 
 wards?" asked Willard smilingly of Martin. 
 Martin, however, refused to treat the matter so 
 lightly, and growled and fumed at a great rate.
 
 280 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 At four-thirty Willard pushed the button beside 
 Doctor McPherson's front door and was ushered 
 into a book-lined room on the right. The Doctor 
 arose to meet him and shook hands, a ceremony 
 dispensed with at the office. Then, when the vis- 
 itor was seated, the Doctor picked up a typewrit- 
 ten sheet from the desk and handed it across. 
 
 "Read that, please, Harmon, and tell me 
 whether you wish to sign it," he said. 
 
 It was a letter to Doctor Handley, at Hillsport 
 School, apologizing very humbly and, at the same 
 time, very gracefully for what had happened. It 
 stressed the fact that the writer had not known 
 that he was defacing school property and was of- 
 fered "on behalf of myself and my companions 
 who participated in the regrettable act." Wil- 
 lard read it through carefully and laid it back on 
 the edge of the desk. 
 
 "Yes, sir," he said, "I'll be very glad to sign 
 it." 
 
 "Very well. I am also writing to Doctor Hand- 
 ley and the two letters will go together." The 
 Doctor dipped a pen in ink and handed it to Wil- 
 lard and the latter placed his signature at the 
 bottom of the sheet. 
 
 "Thank you." The Doctor laid the sheet aside 
 and faced the boy again. "We gave some thought
 
 ON PROBATION 281 
 
 and discussion to your case last night, Harmon, 
 and, I am glad to tell you, decided to accept your 
 version of the incident. That is, we reached the 
 conclusion that your statement to the effect that 
 you and your companions were not aware of the 
 fact that you were defacing Doctor Handley's 
 property was true. While you have been with us 
 but a short time, your hall master and your in- 
 structors spoke extremely well of you, and that 
 weighed in your favor. It was decided that you 
 are to go on probation for the balance of the term, 
 a penalty which you will, I think, realize is far 
 from extreme. Probation, as you doubtless know, 
 requires a certain standing in class and exemplary 
 conduct. It also denies you certain privileges, 
 amongst them participation in athletics. I may 
 add that as fast as your fellow culprits are dis- 
 covered a like penalty will be awarded to each. I 
 hope this will be a lesson to you, Harmon. There 
 is a very distinct line between harmless fun and 
 lawlessness, and I trust that hereafter you will 
 recognize it." 
 
 Willard returned to Haylow too relieved over 
 his escape from the extreme penalty to let the 
 matter of probation trouble him for the time. 
 Martin, returning from practice shortly after, 
 performed a dance of triumph and joy. ' 'That's
 
 282 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 great, Brand!" he declared. "I don't mind tell- 
 ing you now that I was fearing the worst. Of 
 course, I didn't let you see it What are you 
 laughing at?" 
 
 "Why, you crazy chump, I could see all along 
 that you thought I was going to get canned! 
 You've been about as jolly as an undertaker!" 
 
 "Honest 1 ? Well, I'll tell you one thing you 
 don't know, son, and that is that if they had 
 canned you I'd have gone along. I made up my, 
 mind to that!" 
 
 "What good would that have done?" jeered 
 Willard. 
 
 "Never mind, that's what would have hap- 
 pened," replied Martin doggedly. 
 
 "Well, don't be too care-free and light- 
 hearted," laughed the other. "Mac says that 
 as fast as you chaps are found out you'll get the 
 same medicine." 
 
 "He's got to find us first," chuckled Martin. 
 "If he was going to do it he'd have done it be- 
 fore this." 
 
 "Well, I hope you're right. How did practice 
 got" 
 
 "Fine! We scored three times on the second. 
 Son, we've got a real team this year!" 
 
 "Who was at left half ?"
 
 ON PROBATION 283 
 
 "Mawson most of the time. Longstreth had a 
 whack at it, too. We're going to miss you there, 
 Brand. " 
 
 "Much obliged," answered Willard dryly. "I 
 guess you'll worry along, though. What's it like 
 to be on pro?" 
 
 Martin's face sobered as he shook his head. 
 "I've never been there yet, and I hope I never 
 shall, but I guess it's sort of fairly rotten!" 
 
 And so it proved to be. While Willard was no 
 longer confined to the dormitory, he was not al- 
 lowed to go on the field and was debarred from 
 being outside the school property after six in the 
 evening, and the latter restriction meant that the 
 movies, unless he chose to attend in the afternoon, 
 would know him no more until after Christmas 
 Recess. The hardest feature of his punishment, 
 however, was the required standing in all classes. 
 Marks under 85 drew frowns of disapproval, and 
 Willard reflected that the rule that kept him in- 
 side the grounds in the evenings was not such a 
 bad one, for only by spending the evenings in 
 diligent study could he hope to scrape through. 
 
 Being forbidden attendance at practice or 
 games did not, however, prevent him from wit- 
 nessing the game with New Falmouth High 
 School on Saturday. He saw it, although at a
 
 284 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 distance and in a rather uncomfortable attitude, 
 from Felix McNatt's window in Upton. McNatt's 
 room, while not on the end of the building over- 
 looking the field, was near the corner and, by 
 opening a window and leaning well out Willard 
 could see all of the gridiron save the stretch of 
 it close to the nearer stand. Fortunately for his 
 comfort, the day was only mildly cold. New Fal- 
 mouth High was not a formidable antagonist and 
 Alton had no difficulty in running up 34 points 
 while the adversary was securing 7. Afterwards 
 it was stated throughout the school that McNatt 
 won that game single-handed, but that was an ex- 
 aggeration. True it is, though, that the full-back 
 carried the ball over for four of the five touch- 
 downs and was largely instrumental in securing 
 the fifth! Willard observed from his aery with 
 mingled emotions that Mawson was far from ef- 
 fectual on attack, although he played a consist- 
 ently good game on defense. Cochran, at right 
 half, had an off-day, and Moncks, who took his 
 place in the third quarter, was not much better. 
 it seemed to Willard that the Gray-and-Gold de- 
 served a larger score than she got, for she fol- 
 lowed the ball closely, played hard and showed 
 real end of the season form throughout. Two 
 penalties in the last period undoubtedly saved the
 
 ON PROBATION 285 
 
 visitor from a worse drubbing. The visitor's 
 touchdown was honestly earned in the first few 
 minutes of play when Gil Tarver's forward-pass 
 to Lake fell into the hands of the enemy and 
 a blue-and-white-legged youth raced thirty-odd 
 yards and fell across the goal-line. A nimble- 
 footed quarter-back added another point. 
 
 The New Falmouth game passed into history 
 and Alton faced the next to the last contest with 
 confidence. Oak Grove Academy was always a 
 worthy competitor, and this year was to meet Al- 
 ton on Oak Grove ground, but the Gray-and-Gold 
 had reached her stride and the only question that 
 concerned her adherents was the size of the score 
 and whether Oak Grove would be represented in 
 it. Kenly had played a stiff game with Lorimer 
 Saturday and had won it in the last five minutes, 
 the final score being 16 to 13. Although the best 
 Alton had been able to do against Lorimer was to 
 play her to a 3 to 3 tie, the Gray-and-Gold never- 
 theless found encouragement in the Kenly-Lorimer 
 game, arguing that Alton's present playing was 
 fifty per cent better than it had been a fortnight 
 ago, granting which a meeting between Alton and 
 Kenly on Saturday would have found the former 
 easily superior. Whether this reasoning was cor- 
 rect or not, certain it is that neither players nor
 
 286 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 adherents doubted Alton's ability to beat Oak 
 Grove Academy in most decisive fashion at the 
 end of the week. But this was before Mr. Kin- 
 caid, physics instructor, put two and two together 
 and beheld a great light.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 M'NATT TRIES PHOTOGRAPHY 
 
 MR. KINCAID was a dapper, well-groomed little 
 gentleman of middle age who wore a sandy mus- 
 tache and squinted engagingly through a pair of 
 gold-rimmed glasses because he was unusually 
 near-sighted. On one occasion, when the instruc- 
 tor had removed his glasses to polish them and 
 had subsequently mislaid them between the pages 
 of a book for something like two minutes, things 
 happened in Room G seldom witnessed! Being 
 extremely fastidious, the instructor was a good 
 customer of The Parisian Tailors, who occupied 
 a small building on "West Street. On the preced- 
 ing Saturday, the day of the New Falmouth game, 
 the instructor repaired himself to the tailoring 
 shop shortly after dinner with a pair of trousers 
 draped gracefully over one arm. He wanted those 
 trousers nicely pressed for the next day's wear- 
 ing, and he must have them no later than this 
 evening. Having enjoined Mr. Jacob Schacht to 
 that effect, he remained a moment and watched 
 
 287
 
 288 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 that gentleman, who, by the way, looked most un- 
 Parisian in feature, proceed to the long-delayed 
 cleaning of a gray suit. It was a peculiar look- 
 ing suit, Mr. Kincaid decided, viewing it through 
 his strong lenses, and he made mention of his de- 
 cision to Mr. Schacht. "An odd mixture," he 
 remarked agreeably. "I don't think I ever saw 
 one just like it, Mr. Schacht." 
 
 "Them spots ain't in the goods," chuckled Mr. 
 Schacht in an un-Parisian voice. "They're paint, 
 Mr. Kincaid. One of the young gentlemen at the 
 school brought this here suit to me the first of the 
 week just like you see it. All over the front is 
 them spots, Mr. Kincaid, and I says 'A fine job 
 you bring me/ I says, 'because,' I says, 'paint 
 that's already got hard like this,' I says, 'you 
 can't do much with it, Mr. Grainger.' So much 
 I don't like it, I keep putting it off, sir, and here 
 now it's already Saturday, and nothing ain't done 
 to it yet, Mr. Kincaid. If there was two of me I'd 
 ?till be working till it was midnight just like now, 
 Mr. Kincaid." 
 
 His interest in the suit having vanished on 
 learning that the peculiar appearance was due to 
 specks of paint, Mr. Kincaid sympathized with 
 Mr. Schacht in a few well-chosen words and with- 
 drew. The incident did not again occur to him
 
 McNATT TRIES PHOTOGRAPHY 289 
 
 until Tuesday forenoon when his eyes again fell 
 on the gray suit, now quite commonplace in ap- 
 pearance, adorning the form of Calvin Grainger. 
 Just why at that moment Mr. Kincaid's thoughts 
 should have reverted to the last faculty meeting 
 it is hard to say, but they did, and he recalled the 
 case of a student, whose name he had now forgot- 
 ten, which had been before the meeting for con- 
 sideration. That student had used black paint 
 to adorn the brick wall surrounding the residence 
 of the Principal of Hillsport School, to the strain- 
 ing of the entente cordial existing between that 
 school and Alton Academy. Mr. Kincaid removed 
 his gold-rimmed glasses, closed his eyes, leaned 
 back, and, while Rowlandson proceeded to prove 
 how little attention he had given to today's les- 
 son, added two and two, with the result that later 
 on that day Calvin Grainger called at the office on 
 request and spent some twenty minutes with Doc- 
 tor McPherson. When he left he looked chas- 
 tened to a degree ; chastened and very disgusted ; 
 possibly more disgusted than chastened. For, as 
 he asked later of a very troubled roommate, what 
 was a fellow going to do when he was asked point- 
 blank like that! 
 
 4 'Of course," he explained moodily, "I didn't 
 welch on you or Mart, but he'll get you, Bob, be-
 
 290 LEFT HALF HAKMON 
 
 cause he will be pretty sure we were together. 
 After that he'll get Mart." 
 
 "He'll get me," agreed Bob, with a sigh, "but 
 I don't see how he can connect Mart with the 
 business." 
 
 "You don't? Well, it's funny to me he hasn't 
 done it already. He knows that Brand and Mart 
 room together, for one thing. Fellows who room 
 together are generally in on things like that." 
 
 "Sure, if they happen around school, but I 
 guess it didn't occur to him that Mart would be 
 with Brand over at Hillsport. Maybe he won't 
 think of me, either." But there was very little 
 conviction in his tone. 
 
 "He will, though," answered Cal gloomily. 
 "You'll be on the carpet in the morning. It's a 
 shame, too. It doesn't matter much in my case, 
 for I'm not on the football team, and I'll be off 
 probation long before spring baseball practice 
 starts, but you " He shook his head dismally. 
 
 "Oh, well!" Bob shrugged. "What has to be, 
 has to be. Might as well face it." He walked to 
 the window and looked down on the darkening 
 Green. Cal groaned. 
 
 "It's my fault," he muttered. "You fellows 
 wouldn't have thought of it if I hadn't suggested 
 it."
 
 McNATT TRIES PHOTOGRAPHY 291 
 
 "It isn't your fault that we went into it," an- 
 swered Bob, without turning. "Don't talk like 
 a fish." 
 
 At noon the next day it was known pretty well 
 all over school that Bob Newhall, Calvin Grainger 
 and Willard Harmon were on probation as a re- 
 sult of the black paint episode over at Hillsport. 
 Bob 's fate brought consternation to the team and 
 one of the worst quarter-hours Bob had ever put 
 in occurred when Joe Myers sought him out and 
 said what was on his mind. Joe took it badly. 
 
 Martin was all for hurrying to the office and 
 acknowledging his complicity, but the others per- 
 suaded him not to. As Bob said, the team had 
 suffered enough, and it was Martin's duty to stick 
 as long as faculty would let him. "Not that it'll 
 be long, though," added Bob pessimistically. 
 "They'll get you, too, in a day or so." 
 
 Bob was mistaken, however, for they didn't 
 "get him" until Friday. Even then they had no 
 proof against Martin, but, knowing that he and 
 Bob and Cal were much together, they shot at a 
 venture and, questioned, Martin could do no less 
 than confess. He acknowledged to Willard that it 
 was a relief to have it over with. "I've been feel- 
 ing like a thief ever since they got you, Brand," 
 lie said, "and I'd have gone to Mac long ago if
 
 292 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 you fellows hadn't kicked up such a row about 
 it." 
 
 The next day Alton journeyed to Hubbardston 
 and met Oak Grove. With Eowlandson in Bob's 
 position and Putney playing left tackle in place 
 of Martin, it wasn't the same team that had rolled 
 up those 34 points against New Falmouth. The 
 Gray-and-Gold, thanks to the spirit displayed by 
 every fellow on the team and to some wonderful 
 work by McNatt, managed to score a touchdown 
 in the third period, but against that Oak Grove 
 made two, and the score at the end of the game 
 was 14 to 6 in Oak Grove's favor. 
 
 The school felt very sore after that game and 
 Bob and Martin and Willard were far from pop- 
 ular. There was a distinct atmosphere of dis- 
 couragement over the Academy on Sunday, and 
 it didn't lift perceptibly until Monday evening, 
 when, at the third of the football mass meetings, 
 Coach Cade made an earnest appeal for support 
 that brought the audience to their feet, cheering 
 madly. 
 
 "We've been hit hard," he said. " There 
 wouldn't be any sense in my denying that. But 
 this is a fight that we're in, and one blow isn't 
 going to beat us. It's just going to get our blood 
 up, fellows, and we're going to fight harder than
 
 McNATT TRIES PHOTOGRAPHY 293 
 
 we ever thought of fighting. We're going into 
 the Kenly game, maybe, beaten on paper, but 
 we're coming out of it victorious. It won't be the 
 first time that a supposedly weaker team has won. 
 It's spirit that counts, the spirit to fight and con- 
 quer, no matter the odds. And that's the spirit 
 Alton is going to have next Saturday. There 
 isn't a man on the team, from Captain Myers 
 down to the greenest substitute, that thinks we are 
 going to be beaten; there isn't one of them that 
 doesn't know that we can win and will win! And 
 I know it. And I want everyone of you fellows 
 to know it, too, and to let the team know that you 
 know it! We'll do our part, but you've got to do 
 yours. Will you?" 
 
 The answer was convincing. 
 
 The four on probation didn't attend that meet- 
 ing, nor were they able to see the efforts that 
 Coach Cade put forth to repair the team in the few 
 days remaining, but they heard of each, and each 
 was affected in his own fashion. Martin stormed 
 at his fate and got red in the face, Bob was very 
 silent and pathetic and Willard smiled to hide a 
 sore heart. Cal was frankly miserable, blaming 
 himself for the mischief and taking the misfor- 
 tune to the others perhaps a little harder than 
 they did. Willard dropped in on Felix
 
 294 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 Tuesday afternoon before supper and got much 
 inside news of the football situation. 
 
 "Rowlandson will probably do very well," re- 
 ported McNatt, "but Putney isn't the right 
 sort for tackle, and I wish Mr. Cade would 
 see it. He hasn't the proper temperament, 
 Harmon." 
 
 "How about the backfield!" asked Willard. 
 "How how's Mawson getting on?" 
 
 "Mawson is a hard worker, but he's lighter 
 than he should be and he's not so clever at find- 
 ing the holes as you were, Harmon," answered 
 McNatt judicially. ' ' Cochran is remarkably good 
 when at his best, but he ah fluctuates." 
 
 "It doesn't sound hopeful," murmured "Wil- 
 lard. 
 
 "Oh, IVe no doubt that we will win from 
 Kenly," answered McNatt. "You see, since we 
 lost Proctor and Newhall we've come together a 
 lot better, and the morale of the team is much finer. 
 Kenly, as I figure it, will enter the game fairly 
 sure of winning. We '11 go in realizing that, while 
 we may win it, we've got to play powerful foot- 
 ball to do it. When you just have to do a thing, 
 you do it," concluded McNatt convincedly. 
 
 Willard considered that conclusion a moment 
 m ^ence, a silence broken at length by his host.
 
 McNATT TRIES PHOTOGRAPHY 295 
 
 "I presume," he said, "that there's no hope of 
 Newhall and Proctor and you getting back on 
 before Saturday." 
 
 "Hardly," answered Willard, smiling wryly. 
 "We're on pro for the rest of the term." 
 
 "I didn't know," murmured McNatt sympa- 
 thetically. "Just ah just what was it that hap- 
 pened, Harmon? I don't think I ever heard the 
 rights of it." 
 
 So Willard told him, giving a very complete and 
 detailed account of the affair, and McNatt lis- 
 tened and nodded and blinked occasionally until 
 he had finished. Then, after a moment's consid- 
 eration, he said: "It seems, then, that you fellows 
 made your mistake in painting the score on the 
 Principal's wall. I mean, you did no worse than 
 Hillsport did otherwise." 
 
 "We didn't do as much as she did," answered 
 Willard resentfully. "Those fellows painted the 
 score all over the town here; more than a dozen 
 times, I guess; we only painted it twice." 
 
 "Yes, I recall seeing the signs," McNatt re- 
 flected. "Has it occurred to you as possible that 
 . a proper presentation of your case has not been 
 made to the Hillsport Principal ? ' ' 
 
 "I don't know. Anyway, what he thinks 
 doesn't worry us. It's what faculty here thicks.
 
 296 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 And they think we ought to be punished. And 
 we are." 
 
 "I see. I only thought that possibly" Mc- 
 Natt 's voice trailed into silence, and he remained 
 silent so long that "Willard finally got up and took 
 his departure. McNatt pulled the cord that oper- 
 ated the door bolt in a most absent-minded man- 
 ner and aroused himself from his abstraction only 
 long enough to murmur "Good afternoon." Out- 
 side, Willard smiled to himself and shook his 
 head. 
 
 "McNutt!" he muttered. 
 
 Usually the last hard practice preceding the big 
 game was held on Wednesday, but this year the 
 team was kept at it on Thursday as well. On 
 Wednesday the second team, fight as it might, was 
 snowed under, three touchdowns and a field-goal 
 to nothing, and on Thursday, although Coach 
 Cade gave the ball to the second time and again 
 inside the first's thirty-yard line, the latter 's goal 
 was not crossed. On the other hand, McNatt twice 
 broke away for long runs that led to as many 
 scores. The mass meeting on Thursday evening 
 was more enthusiastic than any that had gone 
 before, and the cheers had a grimly determined 
 sound usually lacking. 
 
 It was on Thursday that Martin returned to
 
 McNATT TRIES PHOTOGRAPHY 297 
 
 Number 16 Haylow just before dinner time from 
 a hurried trip to West Street and, tossing his 
 purchase on his bed and warming numbed fingers 
 over the radiator, announced with a chuckle: 
 "McNutt's got a new line, Brand." 
 
 "What sort of a line?" asked Willard, push- 
 ing his book away and tilting perilously back in 
 his chair. "What do you mean, line?" 
 
 "Photography," replied Martin. "I met him 
 over in Bagdad a few minutes ago taking pictures 
 of the stores. It's colder than the dickens, but 
 all he had on was a muffler around his neck." 
 
 "What!" 
 
 "Don't play the goat. You know what I mean. 
 He looked awfully funny, standing there winding 
 up his little camera in the middle of the street, 
 with the wind blowing a gale ! ' ' 
 
 "What's he photographing the stores fort" 
 asked Willard, puzzled. 
 
 "Search me ! Some new science, I guess. He's 
 a queer one. Coming to dinner?" 
 
 Friday was still cold and windy, with leaden 
 skies, and after the team had run through signals 
 for a quarter of an hour and the backs had punted 
 and caught a few times, the players were hustled 
 back to the gymnasium and straw was spread over 
 the gridiron in case of a freeze.
 
 298 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 The excitement and suspense that held the 
 whole school that day affected Willard so that 
 studying was an impossibility. About five, as 
 Martin had gone over to Lykes to get Eustace 
 Eoss to help him with his algebra, Willard gave 
 up the attempt to study and, pulling on a sweater, 
 wandered across to Upton. Number 49 held only 
 young Fuller, however. "Felix went out early," 
 he said in reply to Willard 's inquiry. "About two 
 o'clock I think it was. I guess he's photograph- 
 ing." The boy scowled. "That's his latest. He 
 develops the pictures himself, too." He nodded 
 at several trays and bottles that claimed a corner 
 of the table. "This is a rotten hole to live in 
 when he gets to messing with chemicals. Some 
 day I'll be blown through the roof, I dare say." 
 
 "I don't think photographing chemicals are ex- 
 plosive," responded Willard soothingly. 
 
 "Well, they're mighty nasty," grumbled the 
 other. "He stretched a string across the room 
 yesterday and hung his films on it and they 
 dripped all over my books ! ' ' 
 
 Willard retraced his steps to Haylow, very 
 much at a loose end, and gloomed in the darkness 
 until Martin returned and switched the light on. 
 After supper that evening Bob and Calvin came 
 up and the four listened to the singing and cheer-
 
 McNATT TRIES PHOTOGRAPHY 299 
 
 Ing that floated faintly across from Memorial 
 Hall where the final football mass meeting was 
 being held, and talked desultorily about the game 
 and Alton's prospects of victory. "They say,'* 
 remarked Cal, "that faculty's holding a special 
 meeting this evening and that Rowlandson may 
 not play tomorrow. ' ' 
 
 "What's the matter with Rowly?" asked 
 Martin. 
 
 "Back in his studies, they say." 
 
 "I guess it's just a scare," said Martin. "Who 
 said that faculty was meeting?" 
 
 "Harry Johnson told me. I think it's so, too, 
 for I saw the windows of Mac's room all lighted 
 up."' 
 
 "What of it! That doesn't necessarily mean 
 that they're after Rowlandson," said Bob. "That 
 would be about the last straw ! ' ' 
 
 "You hear a lot of silly yarns like that just 
 before the game," said Martin. "Fellows get so 
 excited they'll tell you anything." 
 
 "I wish I were excited," muttered Bob. "Gee, 
 it's funny to think of the game being played to- 
 morrow and not getting into it!" 
 
 "Not even seeing!" added Cal. 
 
 * ' That 's worse still, "said Martin. * * I don 't see 
 why faculty needs to be so blamed mean. It
 
 300 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 wouldn't hurt them any to let us look at the old 
 game!" 
 
 "Think they would if we all went and asked?" 
 inquired Willard. "Doctor McPherson isn't a 
 bad sort." 
 
 "He's all right," answered Cal grudgingly, 
 "but some of the others are pills. I'd say " 
 
 "We might try it," interrupted Bob eagerly. 
 "I'll go if the rest of you will!" 
 
 "I'll go," said Martin promptly. "He can't 
 any more than turn us down. Gee, listen to that 
 cheer! They're certainly humping themselves 
 over there tonight!" 
 
 "We'll all go," said Bob. "I suppose it's too 
 late tonight. Let's do it right after breakfast. I 
 don't see why he shouldn't, fellows." 
 
 "Nor I," growled Cal, "but he won't!" 
 
 Long after midnight had rung out Willard 
 called cautiously across the darkness: "Mart, you 
 awake?" 
 
 "Yes, I can't seem to get to sleep." 
 
 "Same here," sighed Willard. He thumped his 
 pillow and dug his head into it again. "Gee, 
 you'd think I was going to play tomorrow from 
 the way I don't get sleepy!" 
 
 "Last year," said Mart, making the bed squeak 
 as he tossed himself into a new position, "I was
 
 McNATT TRIES PHOTOGRAPHY 301 
 
 asleep before eleven. Let's light up and read 
 awhile, Brand." 
 
 "Let's try it again for awhile first," was the 
 answer. " Maybe if we stop thinking about the 
 game we'll make it." 
 
 "Yes, but how are you going to stop thinking 
 of it?" sighed Martin. "Well" 
 
 Silence fell. The half-hour struck. Presently 
 a gentle snore came from the left-hand bed, joined 
 a few minutes later by a second.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 ALTON CELEBRATES 
 
 CLOUD and sun were struggling for supremacy the 
 next morning when Willard looked out the win- 
 dow. The tips of the trees were swaying briskly 
 under a southwest breeze, but it was evident that, 
 whether fair or cloudy, the day was to be milder 
 than yesterday. Already there was a wild hubbub 
 from the corridor as boys raced for the lavatory, 
 and football songs sounded bravely. Willard 
 didn't have much appetite at breakfast; nor, for 
 that matter, did many of his table companions dis- 
 play any marvelous enthusiasm for food. They 
 were far too excited. A holiday air prevailed and 
 laughter was louder and conversation more inces- 
 sant than usual. At intervals the broad windows 
 across the crowded hall lighted up palely, making 
 a promise that was never quite fulfilled. 
 
 The four met in the corridor after breakfast and 
 discussed their mission beside one of the radia- 
 tors. "Who's going to do the talking?" asked 
 Calvin. "And what are we going to say!" 
 
 302
 
 ALTON CELEBRATES 303 
 
 "Bob," answered Martin and Willard almost 
 in unison. 
 
 Bob shrugged. "I don't mind. Anyway, there 
 isn't anything to say. All we can do is ask to be 
 allowed to attend the game. I don't know of any 
 any effective argument that we can put up, do 
 you?" 
 
 It seemed that no one did, and presently they 
 started forth for Doctor McPherson's residence, 
 the Doctor seldom going across to Academy Hall 
 before nine o'clock. They gave their names to 
 the maid and stood in a cluster outside the library 
 door while she disappeared in the direction of the 
 dining-room. "Guess he hasn't finished break- 
 fast," whispered Martin. "Maybe we oughtn't 
 to have come so early." 
 
 "He ought to be through it if he isn't," 
 muttered Bob sternly. "Anyhow, we can 
 wait. ' ' 
 
 Then the maid appeared again. "The Doctor 
 says he will see you at the office at half -past ten," 
 she reported. The four exchanged glances and 
 filed out. Outside, Bob gave a sigh of relief. 
 
 "I guess he'd have turned us down, anyway," 
 he said. 
 
 "You don't know," replied Willard. "Aren't 
 you going to try again?"
 
 304 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 "I don't believe," said Bob. "What's the 
 use ? ' ' 
 
 * ' Lots of use, ' ' declared Martin stoutly. ' * Let 's 
 see it through now we've started. Come on 
 up to our room and wait. It's nearly two 
 hours." 
 
 In the corridor Willard stopped at the mail rack 
 while the others went on toward the stairs. When 
 he overtook them he held two buff envelopes in 
 his hand. "Here's a billet-doux for you, Mart," 
 he said. "I've got one, too. Wonder what's up." 
 He pulled out the printed slip and ran his eyes 
 over it quickly. "That's funny! It's a date with 
 Mac at ten- thirty!" 
 
 "So's mine," announced Martin. "What do 
 you suppose " 
 
 "That's why he wouldn't see us over at the 
 house," said Bob. ' ' Say, I wonder if I've got one 
 of those, too! I'm going to see!" 
 
 ' ' So am I ! " exclaimed Calvin. 
 
 Left alone, Willard and Martin went on up the 
 stairway alternately eyeing the slips and each 
 other. Martin shook his head troubledly as they 
 gained the second floor corridor. "I'll bet it's 
 that blamed algebra," he muttered. "Peghorn's 
 been mighty nasty the last two or three days." 
 
 "Well, I'm all right as far as I know,"
 
 a 
 
 3 
 o 
 
 -
 
 ALTON CELEBRATES 305 
 
 said Willard, frowning thoughtfully. " Maybe 
 Latin-" 
 
 Hurrying footsteps below interrupted, and then 
 Bob's head came into sight. Cal followed at his 
 heels. Both boys were plainly excited. "We've 
 got 'em, too!" called Bob. "Same hour! Say, 
 know what I think? I think faculty's going to 
 let us see the game!" 
 
 Martin exhaled a deep sigh of relief. "Gee, I 
 hope it is that!" he exclaimed. "I I was get- 
 ting scared!" 
 
 There was still an hour and a half to be lived 
 through, and they made themselves comfortable 
 in Number 16 and advanced numerous theories. 
 "Willard went so far as to suggest that perhaps 
 Mac was going to let them all off probation, but 
 that theory found no supporters. "You haven't 
 been here very long," said Bob, "and so you don't 
 know that faculty gang like I do. It's a sight 
 more likely that Mac wants us to tell us they've 
 changed their minds and that we're to be shot 
 at sunrise!" 
 
 Fully a quarter of an hour before the appointed 
 time they set forth for Academy Hall, arriving 
 there with thirteen and a half minutes to wait. 
 They joined the group on the steps and listened 
 half-heartedly to prognostications regarding the
 
 306 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 outcome of the game until Calvin, having referred 
 to his watch for the sixth time, made a significant 
 motion of his head and the others followed him 
 inside and down the corridor to the fateful portal. 
 
 "The Doctor is all ready for you, gentlemen/* 
 said the secretary when they entered. "Go right 
 in, please." 
 
 They went in, Bob leading the way. Doctor 
 McPherson greeted them pleasantly and bade 
 them be seated, and when they were he took up 
 a paper whose folds showed it to be a letter and 
 fixed his glasses more firmly. Then he viewed 
 them one after another and spoke. 
 
 1 ' This is a communication that reached me yes- 
 terday by um by special messenger." Willard 
 thought a faint smile quivered about the corners 
 of the Doctor's mouth. "It is from Doctor Wil- 
 liam Handley, of Hillsport School. With your 
 permission, boys, I will read it." 
 
 The ensuing silence gave unanimous and en- 
 thusiastic consent. The only sound was from Bob 
 when he coughed nervously. The Doctor ran his 
 eyes over the address and began: "The young 
 gentleman who bears this, Mr. McNatt, has con- 
 vinced me that the incident of which I wrote to 
 you under date of the 5th instant has been 
 wrongly construed by our faculty and that it was
 
 ALTON CELEBRATES 307 
 
 neither a deliberated discourtesy nor a mischiev- 
 ous attempt to cause property damage. In the 
 light of Mr. McNatt's information I can readily 
 believe that the proceeding was no more than a 
 prankish attempt to retaliate for acts of a sim- 
 ilar nature performed by the students of this 
 school in Alton a year ago, acts which, I wish to 
 assure you, were not known of by me until today. 
 While two wrongs do not make a right, I can sym- 
 pathize with the motives which actuated your stu- 
 dents, and it is the purpose of this letter to assure 
 you that so far as we of the Hillsport School Fac- 
 ulty are concerned the unfortunate incident is 
 fully condoned. As a personal favor will you not 
 exercise such leniency toward the offenders as 
 your conscience will permit? It would be a source 
 of deep regret if, because of our somewhat hasty 
 and, as we now conceive, too severe arraignment 
 of the young gentlemen, the Alton Football Team 
 should, lacking their services, meet with defeat 
 tomorrow. In closing may I offer an apology on 
 behalf of the Faculty of this school for the depre- 
 dations caused by our students in your town last 
 autumn? I assure you that such regrettable acts 
 will not recur. With the most cordial greetings 
 and assurances of my deep respect, I am, my dear 
 Doctor, very sincerely yours, William Handle/."
 
 308 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 The Principal placed the letter back on the desk 
 before him and again viewed his audience, this 
 time with a frank smile. 
 
 "That document," he went on, "was presented 
 to me late yesterday afternoon by McNatt, of the 
 Senior Class. Last evening I called a meeting of 
 the faculty, young gentlemen, and it was decided 
 that, since the Hillsport faculty desired it, it 
 would be ungracious on our part to refuse clem- 
 ency. So it is my pleasant privilege to inform 
 you that you are removed from probation. I need 
 scarcely point out to you that you are chiefly 
 under obligations to Felix McNatt." 
 
 There was a long moment of silence. Then Bob 
 cleared his throat. "How how did he do it, 
 sir?" he asked rather huskily. 
 
 "I'm not very certain myself," replied the 
 Doctor, smiling, "but I gathered from his story 
 that his most potent argument was a collection of 
 a dozen or so photographs which he took around 
 town here and which showed that you boys didn't 
 exactly invent the painting of football scores on 
 walls and buildings ! ' ' 
 
 I might devote several pages to the Alton-Kenly 
 game, but it really doesn't deserve it. Seen in 
 retrospect, it was not an uncommonly enthralling
 
 ALTON CELEBRATES 309 
 
 battle, although at the time there was excitement 
 enough. You know without my telling it that 
 Alton won. I think she would have won even 
 without the assistance of Bob and Martin and 
 Willard, for she had made up her mind to con' 
 quer and I don't believe that anything Kenly could 
 have done that afternoon would have prevented 
 her from winning. As it was, Alton showed her 
 superiority from the first and the outcome was 
 never for an instant in doubt. Coach Cade had 
 pleaded for the first score, for, like many coaches, 
 he was a believer in the axiom which says: The 
 team that scores first wins the game. And Alton 
 gave him his wish when Cochran slid over the 
 Kenly goal-line at the end of seven minutes of 
 play for the initial touchdown. 
 
 Alton played good football that afternoon, 
 played better football than her most hopeful sup- 
 porter dared expect, and Kenly was fortunate to 
 get the six points that came to her in the second 
 period. Those six points constituted the only 
 dregs in Alton's cup of happiness, for, after Mc- 
 Natt had hurled himself across the last four yards 
 that separated the Gray-and-Gold from the Kenly 
 goal in the first few moments of the second quar- 
 ter and Macon had brought the total to 14 points, 
 it seemed to Alton that she would not only win.
 
 310 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 but keep the adversary scoreless. That, however, 
 was not to be, for Kenly, although outplayed dur- 
 ing most of the game, enjoyed one flash of des- 
 perate, heroic and successful endeavor. Getting 
 possession of the ball on Alton's thirty-eight 
 yards, she made two forward-passes good and 
 landed on the twelve. From there, in spite of the 
 home team's savage defense, she smashed her way 
 to the seven in three attacks and then threw over 
 the line for a score. 
 
 Yet Alton avenged that insult in the third pe- 
 riod and again in the fourth, and might have done 
 so once again in the last few minutes had not the 
 substitutes, thrown in helter-skelter as the end 
 drew close, suffered three successive penalties for 
 over-eagerness. It was hard to pick the stars in 
 the Alton eleven, for not a man stopped short of 
 excellence. Possibly it was McNatt who shone 
 the brightest, for the full-back had all that the 
 others had of skill and spirit with, besides, a cer- 
 tain other quality which, for want of a better 
 name, and at the risk of ridicule, I must call 
 science. It was McNatt who stopped the much- 
 touted Puckhaber time and again and fairly stood 
 him on his head. It was McNatt who twice hurled 
 himself across the Kenly goal-line for a score. 
 And it was McNatt who, flaming himself with a
 
 ALTON CELEBRATES 311 
 
 white-hot intensity of purpose, constantly encour- 
 aged the others to fairly superhuman efforts. 
 
 But to speak too much of McNatt would be un- 
 fair to the rest : to Captain Joe Myers, and to Gil 
 Tarver, who ran the team as never before, and 
 to Bob and Martin and, finally, Willard, who, al- 
 though he didn 't see service until the third period 
 started, played a wonderful game at left half. 
 That run that started on Alton's twenty-eight 
 yards and ended on Kenly's seventeen was made 
 by Willard, and Willard it was who, near the last 
 of the contest, took Tarver 's long heave down the 
 field and added another dozen yards to it, so pre- 
 paring the way for McNatt 's final touchdown. It 
 was Alton's day all through, and it is doubtful if 
 there was ever a more stunned and disappointed 
 team than Kenly when the last whistle blew and 
 the score of 26 to 6 stared down at her from the 
 board. That single touchdown afforded her scant 
 comfort, it seemed. 
 
 Alton made merry that night. There was a 
 parade that wound in and out of the town and 
 back across the Green several times, and much 
 singing and much cheering. It was while they 
 were perched side by side in the rickety wagon 
 that, serving as a chariot for the heroes, was 
 drawn at the head of the procession, that Willard
 
 312 LEFT HALF HARMON 
 
 said to McNatt during a lull in the clamor : ' ' How 
 did you ever think of that scheme, McNatt?" 
 
 And McNatt, smiling, answered: "Well, Har- 
 mon, there's a scientific way of doing everything, 
 you know. And that was the scientific way of 
 doing that!" 
 
 THE END
 
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