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He played last year; he knows more fine points of the game than any of us juniors can. And he has the judgment. Besides, he's a senior, and it's his last chance to command the High School eleven." "If Wadleigh'll take it, I'm for him," spoke Dave Darrin promptly. Henry Wadleigh, or "Hem," as he was usually called, was turning all the colors of the rainbow. Yet he looked pleased and anxious.
"Oh, of course, we're going to win today -Gridley simply has to win," added Holmes hastily. "Yes; you two look as though you had the winning streak on," growled Wadleigh, in a low voice. "For goodness' sake come out of your daze!" "Do you think yourself that Drayne is fit?" demanded Hazelton. "He's the fittest man we have that can play left end," retorted Wadleigh.
"Say, you fellows all have a grouch on, just because I'm playing today!" quivered the victim of the remarks. "Oh, well, never mind I'll cure your grouch, then!" Seating himself on a locker box, Drayne began to unfasten the lacings of his shoes. "Here, man! What are you doing?" demanded Captain Wadleigh, bounding forward angrily. "Curing the grouch of this bunch," retorted Drayne sulkily.
Horton, quietly, to "Hen" Wadleigh, just after the School and the second teams had been dismissed. It was not much after half-past three. Practice had been brief, in order that none of the players might be used up. "Prescott, in especial, is showing up magnificently," replied Wadleigh. "He and Darrin are certainly wonders at their end of the line."
"Prescott got ugly because the Dodges never paid that thousand-dollar reward," declared Bayliss. Dick heard, and with his eye still on Dodge, shouted out: "That's not true, Bayliss. You know you are not telling the truth!" Bayliss doubled his fists, and would have struck Prescott down from behind, but Wadleigh, who was a big and powerful fellow, caught Bayliss by his left arm, jerking him back.
Wadleigh was chosen captain, subject to the approval of the Athletics Committee of the alumni, which would talk it over in secret with Coach Morton. And now the team was quickly made up. Wadleigh was to play center. Dick was to play left end, with Dave for left tackle. Greg Holmes went over to right tackle, with Hazelton right guard.
"I guess I'd better be goin'," he returned, doggedly. "Goin'? Where?" "I don't know. But I'm goin'." "Now look here," said Mrs. Wadleigh, with rigor. "You take that chair, an' draw up to the fire. You do as I tell you!" He did it. "Now, I can't hender your goin', but if you do go, I've got a word to say to you." "You needn't say it! I don't want nobody's advice."
Wadleigh, grimly, and returning to the charge, she knocked civilly at the door. No answer. Then she pushed again. It would not yield. She thought of the ladder in the barn, of the small cellar-window; vain hopes, both of them! "Look here!" she called aloud. "You let me in! I'm the Widder Wadleigh! This is my own house, an' I'm real tried stan'in' round here, knockin' at my own front door.
There was just one thing against Wadleigh, in the minds of Hudson and some of the others. He was a boy of poor family. He belonged to what the late but routed "soreheads" termed "the mockers." But he was an earnest, honest fellow, a hard player and loyal to the death to his school. "Any other candidates?" asked Coach Morton. There was a pause of indecision.
Captain Wadleigh nodded to Dave to kick the goal. Captain Grant looked utterly wild. He had assured everyone in Tottenville who had asked him that the Gridley "come ons" would be eaten alive. And here ! Dave made the kick. After going down in that bunch Darrin was not at his best. Body and nerves were tired. He failed to kick the goal.
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