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Updated: May 6, 2025
But Dave, in drawing back as he had done, had stepped aside like lightning, and now he had gone so far that he had no opposing end to dodge. Instead, he darted straight ahead, leaving all of the forward line of the Rustlers behind. But there was the back field to meet! As Dave shot forward, Jetson, too, smashed over the line, blocking the halfback who got in his way.
Then the young commanding officer went back into the engine room, closing the door after him. "What did he shut the door for?" asked Jetson. "Probably they're going to do something, in there, that will call for a good deal of physical exertion." "Well, what of that?" demanded Jetson, not seeing the point.
She asked one or two questions about the man, and, during the evening, slipped out by herself and ran round to the Hepworths. She found the house empty. At all events, she could obtain no answer, and the place, back and front, seemed to her to be uncannily silent. Jetson called the next morning, something of his daughter's uneasiness having communicated itself to him. Mrs.
After the rebuke he had received the day before from the head coach, he did not dare to carry his sulk so far as to go and un-tog without leave. Towards the end of the first half of the practice game, a man on the second team was hurt enough to be retired, and Joyce was called. "They might have given me a chance," quivered Jetson sulkily. "I'm a lot better player than the fool coach imagines.
Dan had occasion to pass the now very unpopular Jetson. "Good morning, Jetson," was Dan's greeting. Jetson started slightly, then replied, with a sulky frown: "Good morning, Dalzell." "Glad he'll speak to me," thought Dan with an inward grimace, "for I'm afraid that, before long, I'll be in the way of feeling mighty lonely a good deal of the time."
"I didn't get up that one," Dave confessed modestly. "You didn't, Mr. Darrin?" interposed Coach Parker. "Who did?" "Mr. Jetson, sir." "I helped a bit," admitted Jetson, turning red as he found himself the center of admiring gazes. "Dalzell and Darrin helped work it out, too." "Have you any more like that one, Mr. Darrin?" questioned Coach Parker.
"Darrin, you know well enough that you so influenced Hepson to keep me off the team!" "Jetson, are you mad?" "No; but I'm naturally angry." "I give you my word that I didn't do anything to prevent your making the team." "And you expect me, Mr. Darrin, to believe that?" "If you decline to do so, it amounts to passing the lie. But I'll overlook that for a moment.
It described an arc, flying neatly over and between the goal-posts at one end of the athletic field. "That's the third one for you, Wolly," murmured Jetson. "You're going to be a star kicker!" "Shall I try out the rest of the squad, sir?" asked Wolgast, turning to Lieutenant-Commander Parker, this year's new coach.
There was a rush of at least twenty men to shake hands with Jetson, who, with flushed but pleased face, bore his honors as modestly as he could. "What on earth came over you, Jet?" demanded Joyce bluntly. "It would be a long story about Darrin," replied Midshipman Jetson. "He had the grace to show me that I was a constitutional ass, with perhaps some slight chance of being reborn.
"Well, then, you can send me to Coventry, you friends of Darrin, if you feel yourselves justified in doing it!" quivered Midshipman Jetson, tossing his head and glaring defiantly around the room. "Mr. President!" "Mr. Wentworth." "In view of the charge, and the subsequent statements of Mr. Jetson, I feel that we have an unpleasant duty to perform. The brigade is founded and based on honor.
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