Left End Edwards Part 20

"You don't?" Mr. Simkins seemed both pained and surprised. "But I a.s.sure you they are there, Edwards, few in number perchance, but really to be found. Perhaps--hm--perhaps it would be a pleasant, at all events a profitable, occupation for you to make an earnest search for them. If you will see me after cla.s.s, Edwards, I shall esteem it a pleasure to indicate a few pages of chaff for you to winnow. Thank you. Pray be seated."

That was why Steve was in anything but an enviable frame of mind that Friday evening. Mr. Simkins had pointed out exactly four pages of chaff for his winnowing, and the winnowing was to be done with pen and ink and the "occasional golden kernels" indicated by Steve on the margin of his paper. Steve was angry and depressed.

"What's the use of trying to get along with him?" he demanded of Tom.

"He has it in for me, and even if I had every lesson down pat he'd be after me all the time just the same. If it wasn't for--for the team I'd quit right now."

"Don't be a chump," replied Tom good-naturedly. "You know yourself, Steve, you haven't been studying lately."

"Well, where's a fellow to get time to study?" asked Steve. "Look at what I have to do this evening!"

"You won't do it if you don't sit down and get started," said his chum soothingly. "You tackle the other stuff and then I'll help you with that Latin. I guess we can get through it together."

"It'll take me an hour to do those six pages," grumbled Steve. "I wish Simkins would choke!"

Steve got by on Sat.u.r.day, with difficulty, but had a hard time of it when the instructor requested him to give his reasons for selecting certain pa.s.sages of the immortal Cicero as being worthy of especial commendation. The rest of the cla.s.s found it very amusing, but Steve failed to discern any humour in the proceedings. Fortunately, Mr.

Simkins was merciful and Steve's martyrdom was of short duration. After that, for a few days at least, Steve's Latin was much better, if not the best.

The game with Cherry Valley deserves only pa.s.sing mention. Viewed beforehand as a severe test of the Brimfield team's defence, the contest proved a walkover for the Maroon-and-Grey, the final score standing 27 to 6. Cherry Valley was weak in all departments of the game, and her single score, a touchdown made in the fourth period, was hammered out when all but two of the Brimfield players were first and second subst.i.tutes. Of Brimfield's tallies two were due to the skill of Hatherton Williams, who twice placed the pigskin over the bar for field-goals, once from the twenty-five yards and once from near the forty. The Brimfield backs showed up better than at any time in the season, and Norton and Kendall gained almost at will. There was still much to criticise and Mr. Robey was far from satisfied with the work of the eleven as a whole, but the school in general was vastly pleased.

Coming a week after that disappointing 0 to 0 game with the military academy, the Cherry Hill game was decidedly encouraging.

So far Erie Sawyer had treated both Steve and Tom with silent contempt whenever he encountered them, although his scowls told them that they were by no means forgiven. Naturally, since Eric was on the 'varsity and the two chums on the second, they saw each other practically every afternoon on the field or in the gymnasium. But it wasn't difficult to avoid a real meeting where so many others were about. Roy Draper pretended to think that Eric was only biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to murder the two in cold blood, and delighted to draw gruesome pictures of the ultimate fate of his friends.

"I guess what he will really do," he said on the Sunday afternoon following the Cherry Valley game when he and Harry Westcott were in Number 12 Billings, "is to decoy you both over to the Sound some fine day and drown you."

"Just how will he manage it?" asked Tom, who was tumbling everything in the room about in his search for a mislaid book.

"He will probably tie heavy weights to your necks and drop you into a deep hole in the ocean," replied Roy promptly. "Then you will be eaten by sharks."

"And what would we be doing all the time he was tying the weights to us?" asked Steve sarcastically.

"Nothing, because he'd chloroform you first," returned Roy triumphantly, much pleased with his readiness. "You'd be insensible."

"Meaning without sense," murmured Harry. "It wouldn't take much chloroform."

"Huh! Don't you talk!" said Steve. "You'll never have brain-fever!"

"Ha!" scoffed Harry. "Sarcasm, the refuge of small intellects!"

"Come on," said Tom. "It's nearly three-thirty. Bother Sawyer, anyway.

He's not troubling me any."

"That's all right," replied Roy, as he got up from the window-seat, "but when you wake up some fine morning and find yourself bathed in your own life's blood you'll wish you'd listened to me."

"I can't help listening to you. You talk all the time. Besides, I shouldn't call it a fine morning if I woke up dead. I--I'd think it was a very disagreeable day! Are you coming, Steve?"

"I suppose so," replied Steve with a groan. "I wish practice was in Halifax, though. I'm tired to-day." He got up from his bed, on which he had been lying in defiance of the rules, and stretched himself with a yawn.

"You'll be tireder when the first gets through with us," said Tom grimly. "Robey will sick all his subs on us to-day, I guess; and subs always think they have to kill you just to show how good they are."

"If anyone tries any funny-business with me to-day he will get in trouble," growled Steve as he pulled his cap on and followed the others through the door. "I just hope someone will try it on!"

Tom's prediction proved correct. The first-string men were given easy practice and faced the second for only ten minutes in scrimmage. Then they were trotted off to the gymnasium and the 'varsity subst.i.tutes took their places. Steve relieved Sherrard at right end in the second period and played so poorly that he received more than one "calling-down" by "Boots." His temper seemed to be in a very ragged condition to-day, and he and Lacey, who played at left tackle on the first, got into several rumpuses in which hands were used in a manner not countenanced by the rules of football. Finally, Steve was sent off to make way for a second subst.i.tute, who played the position so well during the few minutes that remained that Steve became even more disgruntled. When practice was over he joined Tom, Roy and Harry--the latter pair having watched proceedings from the stand--and made his way to the gymnasium in a very poor state of mind. Roy, who didn't believe in humouring folks, tried to twit Steve on his "sc.r.a.pping" with Lacey, but Steve flared up on the instant and Roy was glad to change the subject. After that, Steve was gloomily silent until the gymnasium was reached.

As chance had it, the first-string fellows had just completed dressing and begun to leave the building as the others arrived there, and Steve, leading the way through the big door, collided with a boy who was on his way out. There was really plenty of room for the two to pa.s.s each other, but Steve was not in a frame of mind to give way to anyone and the result was that the other chap received the full force of Steve's shoulder.

"Who are you shoving?" demanded an angry voice.

Steve turned and confronted Eric Sawyer. "Don't take all the room if you don't want to be shoved," answered Steve belligerently. Eric was accompanied by a younger fellow, who instantly withdrew to the safety of the further side of the hall. "You're too big, anyway," continued Steve.

Tom and the others, at his heels in the open doorway, gasped and stared at Steve in amazement. Eric's countenance depicted a similar emotion for an instant, and I think he, too, gasped. Then he sprang forward and gave Steve a push that sent him staggering away from the door.

"You fresh kid!" he growled. "You keep out of my way after this or you'll get hurt. I've stood about all of your nonsense I mean to!"

Steve leaped back with clenched hands and flas.h.i.+ng eyes, but Harry stepped between, while Tom and Roy caught hold of Steve.

"That'll be about all, Sawyer," said Harry quietly. "You can't fight a fellow a head smaller than you, you know."

"Don't you b.u.t.t in," growled Eric. "I don't intend to fight him, but I'll give him a mighty good spanking if he bothers me any more. Come on, Whipple."

Steve, struggling against the grasps and pleas of Tom and Roy, strove to get between Eric Sawyer and the door. "Spank me, will you?" he said angrily. "You let me be, you fellows! Take your hands off me! I'll show him he can't push me around!"

"I won't push you the next time," laughed Eric contemptuously. "I'll turn you over my knee! You, too, you other fres.h.i.+e." He glared at Tom, but Tom was too busy with Steve to make reply. "You want to both of you keep away from me after this."

And, with a final scowl, Eric went out, followed by his companion who ventured a weak and ingratiating smile as he pa.s.sed. By that time the hall was half-full of curious spectators, and Steve, finding his enemy gone, allowed himself to be conducted to the stairway.

"I'm not through with him yet," he declared. "I'll teach him to push me around like that!"

"Oh, cut it!" said Roy disgustedly. "Don't be a silly a.s.s, Steve. You began it yourself and you got what was coming to you. A nice fight you would put up against Sawyer!"

"It's no affair of yours," replied Steve hotly. "No one asked you to b.u.t.t in on it, anyway. You too, Tom! The next time you keep out of my affairs. Do you understand?"

Tom said nothing, but Roy shrugged his shoulders as they entered the locker room. "If you want to make a fool of yourself, all right, Steve.

I won't interfere again. Don't worry."

"I'm no more of a fool than you are," responded Steve. "You fellows make me sick. Just because Sawyer's a little bigger, you let him kick you all over the shop."

"He's never kicked me," drawled Harry. "But if he tried to I'd run. I may not be a hero, but I know what's what! Put your head under the cold water tap, Steve."

Steve replied to that advice with a scowl, and Harry and Roy turned back to make their way upstairs again and across to Torrence.

"He acted like a silly kid," said Roy crossly.

"Yes, he was in a beast of a temper to-day, anyway. Wonder what's the matter with him. He's like a bear with a sore head. He had pluck to stand up to Sawyer, though. I'd have run."

"So would he, probably, if he hadn't been so mad," chuckled Roy. "You can be awfully brave if you get mad enough!" Then he added more seriously: "Sawyer will get him some day surely, after this."

"Oh, Sawyer isn't as bad as he's painted, I guess," replied Harry. "The trouble with Steve is that he's pig-headed or something."

"He fancies himself a bit," said Roy. "He will get over it after he's been here longer. You can't help liking him, though, and I'll be sorry if he gets out."