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Updated: June 16, 2025
After taking leave of Nellie Hollis rode slowly down the street to the Kicker office. He looked in through the window and seeing that Potter had not yet arrived, continued down to the court house. He talked for a few minutes with Judge Graney. Nothing new had developed. Ben Allen had gone to visit several small ranchers the day before and had not returned. Hollis returned to the Kicker office.
He never was a heavy man, but he was swift and slippery in running, a deadly tackler, and a kicker that had not his equal in his time. Alex remained prominent in football activity until his death in 1914. He served in many capacities, as member of committees, as coach, as referee and as umpire. He was a man of happy and sunny nature who made many friends.
"Yes," said the man. He came forward. "I am the new owner of the Kicker," Hollis informed him with a smile. "Jim Hollis's boy?" inquired Potter, straightening. At Hollis's nod he stepped quickly forward and grasped the hand the latter offered him, squeezing it tightly. "Of course you are Jim Hollis's boy!" he said, finishing his inspection. "You are the living image of him!"
By this time, some of the football squad were coming out of locker rooms, heading across the field to the gate. Coach Morton and the little group of citizens turned and went along slowly after them. The kicker was still on hand. Just as the boys neared the gate there were heard sounds of great commotion on the other side of the high board fence.
"Well, I just filled the kicker with it by accident, and man, you orter hear that engine run," Barney exclaimed. "Come see." Johnny swung his legs through the window and dropped lightly to the yard. The two men were halfway across the yard from the pumphouse when a loud explosion ripped the building. Parts of the pump engine flew through the thin walls like shrapnel.
My companion, who knew and had broken most of the horses, looked at the ragged hammer-head as it rose, and said quietly: "Ni-ice beast. Man-eater, if he gets the chance see his eye. Kicker, too see his hocks. Western horse." The animal lumbered up, snuffling and grunting. His feet showed that he had not worked for weeks and weeks, and our creatures drew together significantly.
It was not until after school that an opportunity offered itself. He went across to Outwood's and found the two non-starters in the senior day-room, engaged in the intellectual pursuit of kicking the wall and marking the height of each kick with chalk. Adair's entrance coincided with a record effort by Stone, which caused the kicker to overbalance and stagger backwards against the captain.
He was a fine kicker with either foot, and his tackling was severe, but honest and clean. With a good wind in his favour, few backs could equal him in a long kick, but he sometimes made mistakes near goal when he was hard pressed. ~Mr. M'Farlane.~ The best back in the Cambuslang eleven that season was undoubtedly Mr. M'Farlane. He reminded me very much of the style of Mr.
He did not stop to answer but drove the spurs deep into his pony's flanks and rode furiously down the street toward a point near the Kicker office where he struck the trail. The distance to the Circle Bar ranch was ten miles and Dunlavey had a good half hour's start!
That Potter appreciated this had been shown by his successful fight against temptation the night before, when postponement of the publication of the Kicker would have been fraught with serious consequences.
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