CHAPTER VIII.
HOOKER HAS A PLAN.
On Thursday afternoon the Oakdale football team put in the laststrenuous practice before the first real game of the season, which wasto be played Saturday on the home grounds, the contesting eleven comingfrom Barville. As far as possible Captain Stone had drilled a knowledgeof the new rules into the heads of his followers, and although, like agood captain, he was not wholly satisfied either with their advancementor his own, he decided that stiff, strenuous practice work on Fridaywould not be advisable, considering the possibility that someone mightget hurt, with insufficient time to recover before the Barville contest.Therefore he simply notified his teammates to come out Friday for alittle brushing up in signals.
Encouraged by Sage, Hooker had practiced faithfully, and had made afairly good showing in the line of the scrub team when it played shortperiods against the regulars. Fortunately, Roy’s “condition” had beenexcellent when he began this, and therefore, save for a few minorbruises and sprains, which caused temporary soreness or lameness, heescaped injury. He was feeling somewhat elated over this when he leftthe gymnasium in company with Fred.
“It doesn’t seem to be such a tough old game, after all,” said Roy. “Ofcourse a fellow gets pounded around a lot, but it doesn’t hurt him muchif he’s good and hard.”
“That’s the point generally overlooked by people who put up a holleragainst the game,” said Fred. “Football isn’t for babies and weaklings,and the fellow who goes into it should be in perfect health and hardenedby training that will enable him to stand up under pounding and joltswhich would put a feeble chap all to the bad in no time at all. Observehow quickly fellows in fine condition recover from injuries on the fieldwhich would seem sufficient to put them under the doctor’s care forweeks or months. When some foolish chap who is soft as mush or has somechronic weakness attempts to get into the game, notice how often ithappens that he’s the one seriously injured; and of course this givespeople who do not understand the circumstances and who are opposed tothe game a chance to raise a great to-do.”
“My folks have never wanted me to play.”
“Well, mine are not enthusiastically in favor of my playing, although mymother is the chief objector. But she’s always worrying about me oflate, no matter what I do. It has been that way ever since——” He checkedhimself suddenly.
“Ever since what?” asked Roy.
“Oh,” answered Fred evasively, “ever since I got old enough to go in forsuch things. She doesn’t like to have me go gunning, and she actuallycried when father bought me my gun.”
“Oh, say,” exclaimed Hooker quickly, “that makes me think of something.Why can’t we get in a little shooting Saturday morning? There ought tobe ducks over in Marsh Pond, and we could try ’em Saturday, and arrangeto get home by the middle of the forenoon--by half past ten or eleven,at the latest. That would give us plenty of time to rest up before thegame.”
“But Marsh Pond is nearly five miles from here, and, in order to getthere early enough to pick up any ducks in the morning, we’d have toturn out in the middle of the night and make a stiff tramp of it. I’mafraid that would be a little too much, Hooker.”
“Now listen to me; I have a plan. I’m not in favor of rising at two orthree o’clock and hoofing it all that distance for half an hour’sshooting after daybreak. You’re as wise to the signals as any fellow onthe team, aren’t you?”
“I think so,” nodded Fred modestly.
“Think so! Why, you’ve got them down pat. You can reel ’em off like hotshot, and you know every time just what you’re firing at. A littlesignal practice to-morrow wouldn’t do you any good, and, as I’m only ascrub man, it isn’t worth my while bothering. I know where we can get agood set of decoys to use on that duck hunt, and if you’ll go I’ll agreeto get ’em. We can start right after school to-morrow, and I’ll bet Ican hire Abe Hubbard to take us over to the pond with his old horse andwagon. It won’t cost a great deal, for Hubbard isn’t doing much ofanything, and he’d be glad to pick up a dollar. It wouldn’t surprise meif the sight of a whole dollar would hire him to tote us over there andcome for us any time we might set on Saturday. If I can fix it,” heconcluded eagerly, “will you go?”
They had paused in front of the post-office, and Fred meditated a momentover the proposal. They were standing there as Sleuth Piper came up,passed them and entered the building, turning to cast a swift glance intheir direction.
“It listens good, Hooker,” said Fred, tempted; “but where are we goingto stay all night? Have you thought of that?”
“You bet I have. Why, don’t you remember there’s an old camp over there,which nobody ever uses nowadays? It has a stone fireplace, and if wetake an axe along to cut wood we can be as comfortable as you please.”
It was not remarkable that the temptation grew, for what real boy wouldnot be lured by the prospect of a night in an old camp in the woods?
“It listens good,” repeated Fred, smiling a bit; “but how about a boat?Without a dog to do our retrieving, if we shoot anything we’ll certainlyneed a boat. Spot is no water dog, and he’d be practically useless forus.”
“There isn’t any boat,” admitted Roy; “but I know where there’s an oldraft on the shore within twenty rods of the shooting blind some huntersmade last fall. I know the raft ought to be there, for I used it when Iwas over there fishing once this summer. I saw the blind and inspectedit, too, and it will be all right for us without doing a thing to it.It’s close by the feeding grounds at the western end of the lake andwill serve us much better than a new one, as the ducks are thoroughlyaccustomed to the sight of it by this time. You know how they shysometimes at a newly built blind they’ve never seen before. With thatraft near by for our use, we can pick up any ducks we knock down. Comeon, Fred, of course you’ll go.”
“I’ll speak to Stone about it in the morning.”
“That would be rather late, for you know I’ve got to see Hubbard and fixit with him. Why not see Stone to-night? Give him a good game of talk.Tell him you feel the need of something like this to brace you up. Hardstudy, regular practice, monotony, anxiety about the game—you know thesort of argument to put up. He’ll be a chump if he refuses. Why, if Iwas on the team I’d simply see him and tell him I was going to goanyhow.”
“And you’d put yourself in bad with old Stoney. He’s an easy-goingfellow in some things, but when it comes to football matters he believesin discipline and enforces it, too.”
“Yes,” nodded Roy, “he’s a little too stiff to suit me; something of atyrant, it seems.”
“Not a tyrant; simply a captain who knows what is right and demands itof his followers. If Stone says he doesn’t think I should go, of courseI won’t, that’s all.”
“But you will if he’ll agree?” cried Hooker exultantly. “Say, old man,leave it to me; let me talk to Ben. I’ll tell him you want to go, butdon’t like to ask the privilege.”
“And that would be the truth.”
“Sure. No need to lie about it. Think perhaps he can put a substitute inyour place, same as he would have to do if you were hurt in a game, andthat will be a good thing, as it will brace the sub up on signaling.Will you leave it to me, old chap?”
After a little hesitation, Sage agreed. “Go ahead; have your own wayabout it. If Ben says it’s all right, I’ll go ducking with you.”
“I’ll let you know this very evening,” promised Hooker, as his friendstarted up the street toward home.
Sage did not see Piper come quickly out of the post-office and hastenafter Roy. Having observed the two boys in earnest consultation,Sleuth’s curiosity was at white heat.
Near eight o’clock that evening Hooker came to see Fred at the latter’shome.
“It’s all right,” he announced in enthusiastic triumph. “I brought Stoneround nicely, and he says you may go. I’ve seen Hubbard, too, and fixedit up with him. He’ll be ready to start right after school to-morr
ow,and he’ll come for us at half past nine Saturday morning.”
Fred’s mother was listening with sudden interest. “What are youplanning, boys?” she asked.
Fred explained, observing that her face took on a shade of anxiety.
“Now don’t begin to worry, mother,” he begged. “You know Roy and I areboth careful with guns, and there isn’t a bit of danger. I don’t want tofret you, but I hope you won’t object.”
She sighed a little. “I suppose it’s foolish, but I can’t help feelinganxious about you when you go gunning. However, your father bought youthe gun, and, now that you have it, it wouldn’t seem reasonable for meto seek to prevent you from getting some pleasure through the use ofit.”
“All boys love a gun,” smiled Andrew Sage, “and the right sort of a boyrarely gets hurt with one.”
“Then it’s all fixed,” laughed Roy. “Get everything ready to start rightaway after school, Fred. Take along a blanket, for you’ll need it in theold camp. If we have any luck at all, we ought to bring home someducks.”
Roy had been gone some time when Fred’s mother came up quietly behindhis chair, bent over him and put her arms about his neck.
“Don’t think me foolish, my dear,” she said in a low tone. “Youunderstand why I can’t help worrying. You’re the only boy I have left,now.”