CHAPTER VII
THE GENTLE ART OF HANDLING PUNTS
Life now was filled with hard work for both Neil and Paul. Much of thenovelty that had at first invested study with an exhilarating interesthad worn off, and they had settled down to the daily routine of lecturesand recitations just as though they had been Erskine undergrads foryears instead of a week. The study and the adjoining bed-room were atlast furnished to suit; The First Snow was hung, the "rug for thewash-stand" was in place, and the objectionable towel-rack had given wayto a smaller but less erratic affair.
Every afternoon saw the two boys on Erskine Field. Mills was a hardtaskmaster, but one that inspired the utmost confidence, and as a resultof some ten days' teaching the half hundred candidates who had survivedthe first weeding-out process were well along in the art of football.The new men were coached daily in the rudiments; were taught to punt andcatch, to fall on the ball, to pass without fumbling, to start quickly,and to run hard. Exercise in the gymnasium still went on, but theoriginal twenty-minute period had gradually diminished to ten. Neil andPaul, with certain other candidates for the back-field, were dailyinstructed in catching punts and forming interference. Every afternoonthe practise was watched by a throng of students who were quick toapplaud good work, and whose presence was a constant incentive to theplayers. There was a strong sentiment throughout the college in favor ofleaving nothing undone that might secure a victory over Robinson. Thedefeat of the previous year rankled, and Erskine was grimly determinedto square accounts with her lifelong rival. As one important means tothis end the college was searched through and through for heavymaterial, for Robinson always turned out teams that, whatever might betheir playing power, were beef and brawn from left end to right. And soat Erskine men who didn't know a football from a goal-post were hauledfrom studious retirement simply because they had weight and promisedstrength, and were duly tried and, usually, found wanting. One luckyfind, however, rewarded the search, a two-hundred-pound sophomore namedBrowning, who, handicapped at the start with a colossal ignoranceregarding all things pertaining to the gridiron, learned with wonderfulrapidity, and gave every promise of turning himself into a phenomenalguard or tackle.
On the 5th of October a varsity and a second squad were formed, and Neiland Paul found themselves at left and right half respectively on thelatter. Cowan was back at right-guard on the varsity, a position whichhe had played satisfactorily the year before. Neil had already made thediscovery that he had, despite his Hillton experience, not a little tolearn, and he set about learning it eagerly. Paul made the samediscovery, but, unfortunately for himself, the discovery wounded hispride, and he accepted the criticisms of coach and captain with ratherill grace.
"That dub Devoe makes me very weary," he confided to Neil one afternoon."He thinks he knows it all and no one else has any sense."
"He doesn't strike me that way," answered his chum. "And I think he doesknow a good deal of football."
"You always stick up for him," growled Paul. "And for Mills,too--white-haired, freckle-faced chump!"
"Don't be an idiot," said Neil. "One's captain and t'other is coach, andthey're going to rub it into us whenever they please, and the best thingfor us to do is to take it and look cheerful."
"That's it; we _have_ to take it," Paul objected. "They can put us onthe bench if they want to and keep us there all the season; I know that.But, just the same, I don't intend to lick Devoe's boots or rub my headin the dirt whenever Mills looks at me."
"Well, it looks to me as though you'd been rubbing your head in the dirtalready," laughed Neil.
"Connor stepped on me there," muttered Paul, wiping a clump of mud fromhis forehead. "Come on; Mills is yelling for us. More catching punts,I suppose."
And his supposition was correct. Across the width of the sunlit fieldGraham, the two-hundred-and-thirty-pound center rush, stooped over thepigskin. Beside him were two pairs of end rushes, and behind him, withoutstretched hands, stood Ted Foster. Foster gave a signal, the ballwent back to him on a long pass, and he sent it over the gridiron towardwhere Neil, Paul, and two other backs were waiting. The ends came downunder the kick, the ball thumped into Paul's hands, Neil and anotherformed speedy interference, and the three were well off before the ends,like miniature cyclones, were upon them and had dragged Paul to earth.
The head coach, a short but sturdy figure in worn-out trousers and fadedpurple shirt, stood on the edge of the cinder track and viewed the workwith critical eye. When the ends had trotted back over the field withthe ball to repeat the proceeding, he made himself heard:
"Spread out more, fellows, and don't all stand in a line across thefield. You've got to learn now to judge kicks; you can't expect toalways find yourself just under them. Fletcher, as soon as you'vedecided who is to take the ball yell out. Then play to the runner; everyother man form into interference and get him up the field. Now then!Play quick!"
The ball was in flight again, and once more the ends were speedingacross under it. "Mine!" cried Neil. Then the leather was against hisbreast and he was dodging forward, Paul ahead of him to bowl overopposing players, and Pearse, a full-back candidate, plunging alongbeside. One--two--three of the ends were passed, and the ball had beenrun back ten yards. Then Stone, last year's varsity left end, fooledPaul, and getting inside him, nailed Neil by the hips.
"Well tackled, Stone," called Mills. "Gale, you were asleep, man; Stoneought never to have got through there. Fletcher, you're going to losethe ball some time when you need it badly if you don't catch better thanthat. Never reach up for it; remember that your opponent can't tackleyou until you've touched it; wait until it hits against your stomach,and then grip it hard. If you take it in the air it's an easy stunt foran opponent to knock it out of your hands; but if you've got it huggedagainst your body it won't matter how hard you're thrown, the ball'syours for keeps. Bear that in mind."
On the next kick Neil called to Gale to take the pigskin. Paul misjudgedit, and was forced to turn and run back. He missed the catch, adifficult one under the circumstances, and also missed the rebound. Bythis time the opposing ends were down on him. The ball trickled acrossthe running track, and Paul stooped to pick it up. But Stone was aheadof him, and seizing the pigskin, was off for what would have been atouch-down had it been in a game.
"What's the matter, Gale?" cried Mills angrily. "Why didn't you fall onthat ball?"
"It was on the cinders," answered Paul, in evident surprise. Mills madea motion of disgust, of tragic impatience.
"I don't care," he cried, "if it was on broken glass! You've got ordersto fall on the ball. Now bring it over here, put it downand--_fall_--_on_--_it_!"
Neil watched his chum apprehensively. Knowing well Paul's impatienceunder discipline, he feared that the latter would give way to anger andmutiny on the spot. But Paul did as directed, though with bad grace, andcontented himself with muttered words as he threw the pigskin to awaiting end and went back to his place.
Soon afterward they were called away for a ten-minute line-up. Paul,still smarting under what in his own mind he termed a cruel indignity,played poorly, and ere the ten minutes was half up was relegated to thebenches, his place at right half being taken by Kirk. The second managedto hold the varsity down to one score that day, and might have taken theball over itself had not Pearse fumbled on the varsity's three yards. Asit was, they were given a hearty cheer by the watchers when time wascalled, and they trotted to the bucket to be sponged off. Then those whohad not already been in the line-up were given the gridiron, and thevarsity and second were sent for a trot four times around the field, thewatchful eye of "Baldy" Simson, Erskine's veteran trainer, keeping themunder surveillance until they had completed their task and had trailedout the gate toward the locker-house, baths, and rub-downs.