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Then he said good-by and went inside to take his shower. He found his team-mates discussing the game in detail and bestowing praise on Neil Durant. "Well, cap'n, old scout," Ned Stillson was saying, as Teeny-bits came clamping in, "you sure were Johnny-on-the-spot."
The ball was far within the enemy territory again, but Wilton held, and on the fourth down Ned Stillson fell back and made a successful drop kick. During the rest of this quarter there was a good deal of seesawing back and forth and neither side seemed to have the advantage, until Tom Curwood recovered a fumble on the visitors' twenty-five-yard line.
There were seven men in the posse, three besides Stillson from the Seven Rivers country, employees of the cow men on the Pecos, slim, brown, thin-featured fellows, who talked little either in the saddle or at the bivouac fire by night. The second night out they spent by a water hole in the desert; and on the morning of the third day they ran into their game, earlier than they had expected.
Stillson, who carried the ball next, did better and reached the ten-yard line. Neil Durant then made a line plunge through an opening that the reliable Tom Curwood created and planted the oval five yards from the goal line for a first down.
"I thought you were his friend!" blazed the girl, her cheeks reddening. Tom Osby grinned at the success of his subterfuge. "If he wasn't a good man, Ben Stillson wouldn't 'a' took him along," admitted he. "Then it is dangerous?" "Ma'am," said Tom Osby, tapping his pipe against the side of the wagon seat, "they're about even, a half dozen good ones against about that many bad ones.
Neil Durant had his say and thanked the members of the eleven for their loyalty and courage in a way that made them feel more than ever that he was the best captain in all the history of Ridgley football. Ned Stillson tried to keep out of sight by slumping down in his seat and getting behind big Tom Curwood, but Coach Murray singled him out and ordered him to stand up and make a speech.
Now I don't seem to just remember which ones it was of our fellers that Stillson took with him the other day, along of your hurrying me out of town so soon after I got in." "It was Mr. Tomlinson, and Mr. McKinney from the ranch, you know; and Curly wanted to go, but they wouldn't let him." "Why wouldn't they?" "Because he was a married man, they said.
"Certainly I'll go," said he. "Wait till I get fixed." "That's as many as I'll need," said Stillson. "Hurry up, all of you." Dan Anderson hastened across the arroyo to his house, first asking Curly to get him a horse.
"I want one more man, a single man." "You, Curly!" interrupted his spouse, "you stay right where you are. You get some one else, Mr. Stillson. He's got a family, and besides, he's such a fool." Curly flushed. "Was it my fault I got married?" he began hotly. "And them twins, was they mine, real? Now look here " But the sheriff shook his head. He looked at Dan Anderson inquiringly.
Grumbling, Curly rode away with his wagons, surrounded by a group of be-Winchestered cow punchers, not unlike that which had accompanied Stillson out at the other end of the town. It was two days before they returned. When they did so, two of the men were not in their saddles, but at the bottom of a wagon.
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