CHAPTER XII.
CLASS NINES.
"Have any of you fellows seen the football schedule?" inquired Jimmyone night after Queen's had been open about a week.
"Our rising young journalist, David Powers, ought to know all aboutit," said the Codfish. "Only thing I know is that it contains thesame old lot, with Warwick on the end of it. How about it, David?"
"The schedule was published in the _Mirror_ last spring after Dr.Hobart approved it, and it isn't the same old thing by a good deal.Dixon took on some pretty strong schools. Don't you remember how yousneered at it, saying that it was big enough for the York freshmen,and that Queen's would be a second rater long before the big gamecame on?"
"You don't expect me to remember what I said three or four monthsago?" retorted the Codfish. "It's bad enough to have to remember aweek. Why don't you publish the old thing again?"
"Being live editors, we did that very thing, and if you hadn't beenasleep you would have seen it. Here's the paper," returned David.
"Oh, very well, boy, you may bring it to me," said the Codfish lazily.
Frank picked up the latest copy of the _Mirror_ and launched itat the Codfish's head. "Thank you very, very much," said thatindividual; "I always like polite little boys. Yes, here she is,third page. Some schedule, that----" he announced, as he read;"listen:
"October 5th--Hillside Academy at Queen's. "October 12th--Burrows at Queen's. "October 19th--Milton High School at Milton. "October 26th--Taylor Hall at Oakland. "November 2d--Porter School at Queen's. "November 9th--Warwick at Warwick."
"What's going to be left of this Queen's School eleven when that'sover?" inquired the Codfish. "Why, I wouldn't give a plugged nickelfor Queen's chances."
"You're a pessimist!" said Jimmy. "Have you been down to see us work?"
"Have I been down? Oh, Master Turner, what a question! Of courseI've been down, and that's the reason I'm pessimistic."
"Oh, we're not so bad," said Jimmy, laying aside his book to argue alittle. "We might get away with one or two of them, even if we didlose most of our good players."
"_Most_ of your good players? Why, you lost _all_ of them, didn'tyou?"
"Where does Jimmy come in?" inquired Frank mildly.
"And where does Frank come in?" questioned Jimmy quietly.
"Mutual admiration societies never affected my judgment," said theCodfish. "Jimmy can't play all the game behind the line, and Frankthe Drop Kicker hasn't grown up yet into the husky giant that youare, Turner. Anyway, Dixon wouldn't have Frank on the team if hecould help it. You forget that Chip owns the School, don't you?"
"Not a bit of it, and Frank might get his chance sooner than youthink, Mr. Critic," said Jimmy. "Did you notice what a shine Hortontook to him to-day?"
"Don't be sarcastic, now," said Frank. "Horton had some of us kickingdown on the field to-day, and he said that my style was all wrongand I'd never be any good until I changed it. But I'm not to beconsidered at all. I'm going out for the fall baseball."
"Sensible boy," said the Codfish. "You are wasting your glad youngdays down on that football field, for as long as Dixon runs thecaptain you will have a pretty slim show. Maybe when he gets throughhere and into a wider field for his politics, you may be allowed todo something, unless he hands his curse down to his successor."
The talk of the boys uncovered the situation down on the footballfield. Dixon, in spite of his excellent knowledge of the game, wasso thoroughly bound up with the Society of Gamma Tau that, even atthe risk of weakening the team, he played his favorites. Frank andJimmy had come out at the first call for candidates on the eleven.Jimmy, with his natural ability to play the game, could not very wellbe kept off, society or no society, because the back field was weakwithout him; Frank, with less knowledge of the game and with Chip'ssecret grudge still against him, stood little chance. Horton hadgiven Frank an opportunity once or twice on the second team, but asFrank was green, he was soon replaced.
"He's too light," Dixon said to his coach one night after practice,"and doesn't seem to have much football sense. It's no use inbothering with him." And, although Horton was a good coach, suchlittle remarks as these, frequently repeated, had their effect on theolder man's judgment. He overlooked Frank when substitutions wereto be made in the progress of practice, and finally forgot abouthim--remembering only, perhaps, that he appeared to have a knack ofkicking, albeit in very bad form.
Horton, however, was one of the old school of coaches who had notmuch use for a kicker. It was his particular hobby that the elevenshould be strong enough to carry the ball. And, it might as wellbe set down now as later, he lost a good many games by having noadequate punter or drop kicker. Finally the blow fell, and in thesecond cut of the candidates, Frank read his name among those "whoneed not report for football practice again."
Frank was not particularly sorry, because he recognized hisshortcomings in the game of football. He secretly longed to be atthe game which came most naturally to him--namely, baseball.
But his friends up in Honeywell Hall raised their voices in protest."I think it's a shame," said the Codfish indignantly, "but do youremember I told you so?"
"Don't you care, boys," said Frank. "Don't worry about me. I'm goingto have a little baseball now and, Mr. Codfish, I want you to helpme with my call for candidates. Most of the School nine fellows areplaying on the eleven, so we can have the whole place to ourselves."
"What would you say to an organization of class baseball," suggestedthe Codfish, "same as they do at the colleges? Here's a fine goldenfall going to waste. I've been thinking of it for some time, butwe had no leader. But now that our thousand-dollar beauty, FrankArmstrong, has been kicked off the eleven, the gap is filled. Withthe leader at hand, all we want is a press agent."
"Hear, hear!"
"And we have one right ready to our hand--Mr. David Powers,journalist! What's the use of having these cards to play if you don'tplay them? sez I."
"What's that you're saying about me?" inquired David, looking upfrom an essay that he was composing for next day's English literaturelesson.
"I was saying," said the Codfish glibly, "that we had a scoop foryou--a red hot story that will make the readers on the _Mirror_sit up and shout hallelujah! They always do that when they see aninteresting article in the _Mirror_, eh, David?" continued theCodfish. "Now, as Mark Anthony said: 'Lend me thine ears.' It's likethis. Can't you cook up, dish up, or write, if you prefer ordinarygrammatical terms to culinary ones, an article which will go into thenext issue of the _Mirror_, suggesting an inter-class baseball serieswhich shall begin now and last as long as the weather holds good,then sleep like the ground-hog through the winter, and continue inthe spring? What says our aspiring literary genius?"
"Good idea," said David.
"Wonderful!" said Jimmy. "I'll resign from the football eleven."
"Where am I to play?" inquired Lewis, "short-stop or second base?"
"You'll be the boy who carries the bats and brushes off thehomeplate," said the Codfish, "and maybe if you're very good we maylet you bring the water."
"Thank you for nothing," retorted Lewis.
"And as the _Mirror_, thanks to our progressive friend and erstwhilerope-climber, David, has changed its shirt and appears nice and cleanonce a week instead of twice a month, it ought to make its appearanceabout Thursday of this week. There's no time to lose. Bring on yourpens and paper and let's get that article ready."
The boys entered into the spirit of the thing, and before they turnedin for the night had produced in brief form a plan for inter-classbaseball. Each class, including the Freshmen, was to organize a nine,and there was to be a series of games between these nines, the twohaving the highest percentage to meet for a final match.
"It's up to you, Codfish, to figure out the schedule and thepercentages," said Frank. "We'll call you the unofficial scorer."
"At what salary, please?"
"We'll give you a cheer after it's all over."
"O. K. Then I'll acce
pt. Let the cheer be a long one and a strongone."
The announcement in the _Mirror_ which came out a few days after thetalk in Honeywell, had a surprisingly quick recognition. Leaders ineach class got to work and organized, and before the end of the weekthe diamonds were covered with boys working with might and main towin a place on the nine of their particular class. Frank, of course,was quickly chosen as the leader of his class team, and after a dayor two gathered together the best of a dozen boys who had put in anappearance for his particular nine. But Frank missed the servicesof his old backstop, Jimmy, who, in spite of his statement that hewould resign from the football team, still held his place in the backfield of the School eleven. His allegiance to the eleven was made thesubject of one of the nightly discussions in Honeywell Hall.
"I thought you were going to be with us, Half-back Turner," said theCodfish, one night. "You are throwing your energies away, down thereon the gridiron with Horton and Chip and the rest. Come up and have alittle fun with the real sports."
"I'd like to, I tell you," said Jimmy wistfully. "It's no fun gettingbanged about two hours a day, but I've got to stick to the ship evenif there are rats in it. When I said I'd resign I was only joking."
"Nice way to crawl out of it," growled the Codfish. "We need yourservices. Frank has to pitch to that fellow Button who livesupstairs, and he can't hold the ball. It needs a real red-head likeyou to hold our young Matthewson."
"That's right, Jimmy, stick to your guns," said Frank. "While it'snot the best eleven that ever was, it is still the School eleven andI wish I could help it. I'd chuck this baseball series."
"Oh, you traitor!" shouted the Codfish. "Jimmy, we're going to haveour first clash of the season, as the newspapers say, next Thursdayafternoon; can't you come over and see us wallop that bunch ofthird-year pill tossers?"
"If you don't start it too early I might get over," said Jimmy, "butas long as the practice is on I've got to stick there. And I kind oflike the uphill fight."
"Don't you let him bother you, Jimmy," said Frank. "He's an A numberone josher. Since you are good enough to play for the school, it'syour job to stay there and do your best."
"What do you call your nine?" said Jimmy.
"Oh," murmured the Codfish, "it's a pretty, pretty name--thePiratical Pippins. I selected it from a hundred names, more or less.It was the worst I could think of."
"It sure is bad enough. And what are your opponents called?"
"The Hilarious Hitters--so-called because they can't hitanything--and the Rough Rowdies of the upper class. These are allalliterative names, you see," explained the Codfish, "and each has asignificance which would not easily penetrate your cranium."
"Have the Freshmen a nine?"
"Sure, and a good one, too. We call them the Toy Toddlers."
"And which of these aggregations do you play Thursday?" inquiredJimmy.
"Let's see, where's my schedule?" lisped the Codfish, as he fumbledin his coat pocket. "Here we are--'Pippins versus the HilariousHitters, game called at 4 p. m. Umpire, Snooks'--and he's that fellowwith the lopsided eye, but he makes a great umpire."
Jimmy laughed. "I'll be over to see you if I can. Now I've got to goand lay in a deep store of knowledge for to-morrow. I'm away. Goodnight."
"Good night," echoed the boys, and Jimmy trotted downstairs whistling.
You can imagine that Gamma Tau did not view the baseball series withpleasure. The eleven, loaded with favorites as it was, did not atany time hold the attention of the School, and now that there was arival attraction, still fewer of the fellows went down to watch thepractice. Dixon and Captain Wheeler, well knowing the state of mindof the School, still fretted about the matter, and things were notimproved when practically the whole school turned out for the firstof the class series, in which the Pippins crossed bats with theHitters. Frank captained the Pippins and pitched, and he pitched sowell that his nine won, seven runs to two. The Hitters, true to theirname, got only four hits off his delivery.
"This Armstrong is getting too popular altogether," said Dixon thenight after the game, as he and Captain Wheeler with several othersof the Gamma boys got together in Dixon's room.
"Well, what are you going to do about it?" grumbled Wheeler. "He hasa right to do something, hasn't he? Since he's no good on the eleven,we can't keep him from playing baseball."
"I'm afraid he'll make trouble for us, with that redheaded friend ofhis, Turner. They've got a pretty strong combination there, and notone of them is in the Society. There's Powers, who is going to be aforce on the _Mirror_ some of these days. He's the best man on itnow, with the exception of the chairman, Miller."
"Well, what are we going to do about it, I'd like to know?"
"We can pull his teeth by getting him into Gamma," returned Chip.
"Your first attempt wasn't very successful," returned Wheeler.
"No," said Chip, making a wry face. "But we'll try it again. I thinkif we got him and several of his pals into Gamma, we could bring somuch influence to bear on them that we could sew them up."
"I don't know about that," said Wheeler, "he's just the kind of afellow that's hard to sew up, and he is making himself stronger everyday."
"What would you say to my asking him again? The second elections comeoff two weeks from to-night. We might land him, and then we'd be inclover."
"Well, maybe. We might go over and try some night," ventured Wheeler.
"We might bust up his baseball work by calling him over to the Schoolfootball squad again. He looked to me as if he might make a kicker,and Horton was saying only this afternoon that we've got to developsome one, since you get worse every day."
"Thank you for the compliment!" growled Wheeler.
"And if we can't spoil some of this popularity wave, I've got anotherscheme. The blamed little fool could have anything he wants if heonly came over to us."
"Unfortunately he doesn't see it that way," said Wheeler, "but if youthink best we'll send our Committee over to see him Monday night."
"Agreed," said Chip, and the conference closed.
The determination to bring Frank and Turner over into the camp ofGamma Tau was strengthened by the disastrous defeat of the Queen'sSchool on the following Saturday by two touchdowns to nothing.