Over the Line Part 12

Three weeks pa.s.sed quickly. During this time Judd underwent a trying period. Wherever he chanced to go he provoked laughter and was made the object of many petty but harmless jokes. There was no doubt about it, Judd was slow, but he was also good natured and when he saw the joke, enjoyed it as much as anyone. Largely through Cateye's untiring efforts his rough edge was gradually being worn away, and, while he had formed few friends, still he had made no real enemies. Most of the fellows took him as a huge joke.

Cateye had written to Bob: "Judd is a great scout and getting on fine.

He certainly has the build for a great football player. I've been giving him pointers and I'm anxious for practice to begin so I can see how good he really is."

After the first night Judd talked only during waking hours, a fact which greatly astonished Cateye. True, Judd still snored some, but he could easily be forgiven for this minor offense so long as he did not take a notion to plow any more fields. Moreover Cateye had succeeded in breaking Judd in to soft, downy beds and in making him strive to do things much as other fellows would.

Two weeks later as Cateye was crossing the campus he was met by Benz who slapped him joyfully on the back.

"Football practice begins to-morrow! Since Bob did not come back this year the eleven will have to meet and elect a new captain."

"That's so," recalled Cateye, "Be great to get back in harness again, eh, Benz?"

"You bet! Say,--d'you suppose Rube'll be out to-morrow?"

"I don't know."

"I hope he is. That fellow is the richest joke that ever hit Bartlett college. Why, if he doesn't know any more about football than he does about table manners, ..."

"See here, Benz!" retorted Cateye, impatiently, "haven't you had about enough fun at Judd's expense? Seems to me three weeks has been time enough to wear the joke off some. He's a peculiar fellow, I'll admit, but a great scout once you know him."

"Well then,--I don't know him yet, that's all," retorted Benz.

"Better come over some time and get acquainted!" Cateye spun on his heel and walked off, leaving Benz puzzled and indignant.

Two weeks more whiled away with nothing eventful happening. Football training had gotten well under way. Benz had been elected captain of the eleven over Cateye by one vote. Both men had won their letters for two years and were looked upon with respect and admiration by the other members of the team. Judd had turned out for practice but his ever present awkwardness had caused no end of merriment and made him the brunt for criticism from the mouth of Coach Phillips, himself. "Mighty good material," the coach had said, "But, he certainly needs seasoning!"

The first night that scrimmage was held, Judd, who had been playing left tackle on the second team in practice now got his first chance to demonstrate his ability. Benz was playing fullback on the varsity.

Students thronged the sidelines.

The varsity kicked off and held the seconds for downs on their thirty yard line. The first play called for a line smash through left tackle.

Benz came tearing in; his interference crumpled; he felt a hard shoulder against his knees, and the next moment hit the ground with a terrible thud which knocked the wind completely out of him. When he came to he looked around quietly, felt of himself, and sat up. "Steam roller or locomotive?" he asked, gamely.

"Only Rube," laughed Curns, who was playing right end on the varsity.

"Hump! He did it on purpose just to show me up. I'll get him!"

"No he didn't!" denied Cateye, indignantly, who happened to hear Benz's threat. "Judd says he didn't mean to throw you so hard. He always tackles that way. He stops whatever comes through his side the line."

"I guess he does!" grunted Benz, jumping dazedly to his feet. "Well, he won't get me again. Come on, gang, let's have a touchdown!"

Despite their efforts the varsity could not cross the line and the ball went over to the scrubs on the twenty yard line.

"Can any one in this gang punt?" asked McCabe, the quarterback. "We've only got one real punter in this college an' that's Benz."

"I used to be able to kick some," volunteered Judd, to McCabe's amazement.

"Play ball!" growled the varsity, anxious for more scrimmage.

"Good! I'll drop into your position. You go behind the line and receive the ball. We haven't any handsome array of signals yet. Give that pigskin fits!"

"I'll try!" grinned Judd, trotting back.

The students along the sidelines wondered at this latest move of Judd's. They had opened their eyes wide at the way he broke up the interference and nabbed Benz for a loss, a few plays before. Was he going to bring more renown to himself by disclosing some real toe work?

The ball was snapped back. Judd caught it clumsily but seemed over-anxious. The pigskin dropped and his mighty leg swung up to make the punt, but in some unaccountable manner, ball and foot missed connections and Judd described a graceful semi-circle, alighting flat on his back. It was so funny that the players on both sides refused to play. They just fell in their tracks and howled. Judd crawled slowly to his feet, his face crimson, his jaws set tight. The field was ringing with laughter. Even immobile as he usually was, Coach Phillips could not refrain from smiling. Luckily a scrub recovered the ball, but eight yards had been lost on the play.

"Call that play again!" Judd demanded, somewhat angrily.

"What! You're not going to repeat that performance, are you?" taunted Benz, elated at Judd's poor showing.

"Better let me kick it this time," suggested McCabe, "I think I can punt a little farther than that!"

"So can I!" insisted Judd. "Give me another chance!"

There was something in Judd's eyes which made McCabe consent.

Everyone knew that the same play was to be attempted. Benz set himself ready to break through the line the moment the ball was snapped back.

Here was his chance to break up the play and make Judd look more ridiculous than ever. The revenge would be sweet. Back went the ball!

Benz shot through the line like a thunderbolt; Judd was raising his arms, his foot was swinging up. Benz leaped desperately into the air to block the punt. There was a firm, hollow sound of pigskin meeting toe and Benz felt the leather whiz past his face. Far down the field, even yet high in the air, soared the ball, twisting and turning! A gasp of amazement came from the crowd, then cheers.

"A good fifty yard punt!" cried several. "He _can_ punt after all, can't he?"

"The lucky stiff!" groaned Benz.

CHAPTER IX

AT THE FAIR

It was the first of October, and Sat.u.r.day. The day before the varsity had played its first football game of the season, trouncing Needham, 48 to 0. The work of Benz at fullback, who was endeavoring to fill the famous Bob's position, was a feature of the game. Time after time he tore off long runs through the left side of the line and mainly because there was no man like Judd on the opposing team to stop him. Cateye's work at left guard had made that side of the line as solid as a stone wall. Judd sat quietly by the sidelines, notebook in hand, jotting down different pointers on the game as they occurred to him. He was eager to learn, so eager! But would he ever know enough about the game to make the first team?

To-day, Sat.u.r.day, marked a day of rest for the eleven. Coach Phillips never allowed his men to work out the day after a game. Accordingly the fellows looked about for some new form of recreation.

"I'll tell you, fellows!" suggested Benz, struck by a new idea, "This is the last day of the fair at Tarlton. Let's all attend in a bunch!"

The suggestion met with unanimous approval. Sat.u.r.day was the only day that the students were allowed to visit town without a special permit.

"Great stuff! Let's start!" shouted Curns.

"All right, we'll meet on the campus at ten this morning and hoof it to town."

"Oh, I say, Benz! Have a heart! I left my walking stick at home."

"Come on, glove stretcher, don't be a quitter," pleaded Benz, "I've another idea! Let's ask Rube to go along. We'll have no end of fun.

He's a regular side show by himself!"