A WET FIELD

Jerry was rather glad of exemption from morning punting practice that day, for of late he had not had any too much time for studying and he had a suspicion that Mr. Logan, the mathematics instructor, was contemplating criticism. So the hour usually given to kicking the pigskin was devoted instead to establishing more intimate relations with algebra. By good luck none of the faculty expressed any curiosity about Jerry’s discolored chin and cheek. Several viewed him with discomforting attention, but none said anything. Ashley, with whom Jerry compared notes later, reported a similar experience.

“Faculty knows the fellows pull off scraps now and then, and it doesn’t usually take any notice. Of course, if a chap shows himself around school too badly bunged up it has to, but he always gets off with a lecture. I don’t want to sound like a squealer, Benson――I mean Jerry, but would you mind telling me if folks all fight the way you do where you come from?”

“I reckon so. When there’s a ruckus they just lay onto each other and there ain’t any rules that I ever heard tell of. Mostly, they try to get the other feller down and beat him up.”

“Well, I’ll say it’s mighty earnest,” said Ashley. “Reckon I’ll have to learn to wrestle before I fight you again.”

“Reckon you ain’t going to fight me again,” answered Jerry soberly, feeling of his chin. “Reckon next time I’ll favor arbitration!”

That afternoon Jerry took part in formation drill and did a little punting, but that was all. Coach Thorne inquired how he felt and Jerry said, “Fine, thanks,” hoping that the coach would relent and let him into the scrimmage. But he didn’t, and Jerry sat on the bench, wrapped in a blue blanket, and looked on through thirty minutes of a very snappy game. It had been cloudy since midmorning and before the first period was over a soft, warm drizzle began to fall. There was some fumbling after that, for, with one early-season exception, this was the team’s first opportunity to handle a wet ball. Both first and second offended, and the voices of the two coaches were frequently heard excoriating some unfortunate player. Jerry found faint comfort in the fact that, by reason of not playing, he was saved from fumbling. As the scrimmage neared its end the rain increased and the playing slowed up as a result of slippery turf. Every substitute save Jerry, was used that afternoon, and Jordan, peeling off a sweater in response to a summons from the field, sent a look of malignant triumph along the bench at Jerry. Jerry chuckled to himself, and Gray, who had just dropped into a seat beside him, laughed outright.

“Jordan loves you like a brother, doesn’t he, Benson? Glad he doesn’t look at me like that. I’d lose my appetite! You’re lucky you don’t have to play on that field to-day. It’s fierce. A drizzle like this is worse than a real rain, I reckon. The turf, where there’s any left, is like glass and your cleats don’t do you a mite of good. Thorne says we ought to get used to a wet field, and maybe we should, but he ought to know we can’t do it in one day. Well, I should worry. It won’t make much difference to me whether the field’s wet or dry the day of the Cumbridge game; I won’t get into it.”

“I reckon we’ll all get in for a while,” said Jerry. “You’ve got the edge on Jordan, and I reckon you can count on playing one quarter anyway.”

“Think so?” asked Gray hopefully. “I don’t know. It’s a pretty safe bet that Omstead and Ashley will play as long as they’re able, and both of them are tough fellows when it comes to getting hurt. Then Summerfield will go in for Ashley and you’ll go in for Omstead. That leaves Jordan and me on the outside looking in!”

“Well, I don’t know much about it,” replied Jerry; “only what I’ve heard; but I understand that Mr. Thorne’s a great hand for using the subs. As for me, I reckon whether I play or not depends on how the game goes. Duveen and Keller will likely do the punting unless Cumbridge gets us on the run. Then, I suppose, Thorne will call on me.”

“Maybe, but Duveen’s punts aren’t much good, and I don’t see why Thorne’s giving you so much attention if he only means to use you in a pinch. Oh, well, we’ll see when the time comes. There’s the whistle. Come on!”

But Jerry wasn’t destined to “come on” just then, for Naughton came hurrying over and told him that the coach wanted him on the field. And when Jerry got there a very wet and slippery football was thrust into his hands and the coach said briskly: “Here you are, Benson! You and Cleary put in a half hour at punting. I want you to learn to use a wet ball, son. You’ll find it a heap heavier than a dry one, and a heap harder to place. Cleary, you catch Benson. Omstead! You and Sears go down to the other goal and try some drops. All the rest of you in on the run and don’t stand around here getting stiff!”

The coach’s prediction that Jerry would find a wet ball different from a dry one proved true. Jerry had a lot of difficulty at first and Cleary ran hither and thither all over the east end of the field after the erratic punts. But after he had tried a half dozen he had better success and, although he found that a wet pigskin could not be driven as far as a dry one, he got off some very fair kicks. He was rather glad, however, when the half hour was up, for he was extremely damp from head to feet and the sides of his trousers no longer served to dry his hands on. He suspected that Omstead and Sears had cut short their period of work, for they had gone when he and Cleary mutually agreed to call it a day.

That evening Ted Ingraham came over and made a call, and when he had gone Tom acknowledged that he didn’t seem such a bad sort after all. Ted showed a strong inclination to enter North Bank after Christmas and asked a good many questions about the school, the answering of which fell to Tom by reason of his longer acquaintance with the place and its customs. Joe Keller came in toward the end of the visit and amused himself by dark references to hazing. Ted, though, refused to be frightened. “I reckon if you fellows managed to live through it, I can,” he said. “Bet you Purves Jordan wasn’t hazed much. If he had been he’d never have stuck around! I wouldn’t be surprised if I decided to come here when the next term begins. I’ve got to go somewhere, I suppose, and I might as well go where I know a few fellows. Besides”――and here Ted smiled broadly――“it would be sort of handy having the summer cottage to go to for a party now and then! I’ll get mother to leave the key with me.”

“Bully scheme!” declared Joe. “Ingraham, on behalf of the student body and the faculty of North Bank School, I welcome you to our midst. Also, I declare myself in on the first party!”

“Well said,” agreed Tom. “I believe that Ingraham will prove a great addition to our ranks. And I may add that I have no engagement for the date alluded to!”

Jerry walked down to the landing with Ted when he left and they talked of their conspiracy to recapture the 1915 football. Jerry was forced to acknowledge, however, that he was no nearer a solution of his difficulty. “You see, it’s going to be mighty hard to get away from the field after play begins,” he said. “Having some one telephone to me is all right, but suppose I’m playing when the call comes? Mr. Thorne isn’t going to stop the game for me to answer it.”

“Reckon you’ll have to let me do it, after all,” said Ted eagerly. “Bet you I could, too! Every fellow will be at the game and all I’d have to do――――”

“I ain’t so sure,” interrupted Jerry. “There’s likely to be some fellows who don’t care about football and won’t go to the field. And we’ve got to think about faculty members and janitors and such. It ain’t going to be so plaguy easy, I reckon. Just the same, it’s going to be done, Ted, somehow!”

“You bet it is! If there wasn’t any other way, Jerry, I could hide myself in the building until every one had gone to sleep and then get away with it. How about some keys?”

“I’m going to get some more. I’ve got five already, but they’re all about of a size. Every time I visit a fellow now I pinch the key of his bureau! Well, see you Saturday, Ted. The game starts at two this time. Good-night!”