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Updated: June 12, 2025
They strolled on together, speaking of the buildings they passed, until, opposite the gymnasium, Mr. Detweiler started to leave them, thought better of it and said: "By the way, Byrd, I wonder if I was pledged to secrecy the other day." "The other day?" repeated Amy questioningly. "The day I met you and Thayer and " He looked doubtfully at Chase. "Bob's all right," Amy reassured him.
Detweiler departed, grinning, and "Boots" returned, grumbling, to his charges and was so cross-grained for the rest of the practice that the team wondered. Later, in the gymnasium, "Boots" approached Clint. "Thayer, they want you on the 'varsity," he announced shortly. "Report to Coach Robey tomorrow. And for goodness' sake show them that we know football over here.
Look here, if you only want a tackle for a week or so, why don't you take Robbins? He's a good man, Robbins." "Is he? Which is Robbins?" Mr. Boutelle pointed him out. Detweiler shook his head. "Too straggly, 'Boots. Try again. Either Cupples or Thayer, I guess it will have to be. Sorry, you know." "Oh, yes, you're plumb broken-hearted, aren't you?" asked "Boots" with bitter sarcasm.
Clint and Tyler played through most of that scrimmage, and Clint, unmercifully prodded by Detweiler and anyone else who happened to think of it showed real form on defence. He was opposed to Captain Turner, of the second, and Turner was a crafty end. That Clint was able, more than once, to get around Turner and stop the runner well behind the line spoke well for him.
There are some magazines in front of you if you like to read." "Thanks, I'll just listen, sir. It always amuses me to hear folks get excited about football." "Oh, we're not going to get excited, Byrd." Mr. Detweiler hitched his chair around a trifle and faced Clint. "How did you get on today?" he inquired. "Fairly well, I reckon. I didn't know the signals very well. I don't yet, for that matter."
If you decide to return to his aggregation of world-beaters you'll find he'll do a heap of scolding and then fall on your neck. But you won't do anything of the sort. I'm no football connoisseur, whatever that is, but I have a feeling, Clint, that you can play all around Trow and Tyler. Besides, after Joe Detweiler gets hold of you he'll do wonders for you.
Robey and Andy Miller had journeyed to Claflin to see the game there and Mr. Detweiler was left in charge at home. Cherry Valley had been defeated 27-6 last year and was not looked on as at all dangerous. Her team was light in weight and looked even less competent than it proved, since whatever might have been said in criticism of it, it was fast.
"You have a very direct way of getting results," continued the other. "Might I inquire your name?" "Byrd, sir. And this is Thayer." "Delighted to know you both. Mind if I stroll along with you? I'm an old boy myself, Byrd. Used to be here some five years ago. My name, by the way, is Detweiler." "Oh!" said Amy. "You're going to help coach, aren't you, sir?" "Yes, that's what I'm here for.
Toward the end the 'varsity used substitutes freely, but Clint played through to the last, emerging with many an aching bone, a painful shortness of breath and a fine glow of victory. Mr. Detweiler, red-faced and perspiring, caught him on the side line as he dragged his tired feet toward the blanket pile. "All right, Thayer?" he asked anxiously. "Yes, sir," panted Clint. "Good!
Detweiler just told me! See you after the game." "Sit down, Amy!" said a friend in the stand. "Yes, clear the aisle, please, Byrd," called another. Amy smiled and hurried back to his seat next to Bob Chase just as the two teams, having warmed up and experimented with what little breeze was cutting across the gridiron, withdrew to their respective sides of the field.
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