Bert Wilson on the Gridiron Part 5

"Come on along out of this, Martin," he said; "we're all going back to the college now, and you'd better come back with us."

Martin turned toward him, but hardly seemed to recognize him. He was about to speak when the bartender, who saw a good customer being taken away from him, interfered.

"Aw, let de gent alone, can't youse," he said, in a belligerent tone; "he's got a right to take a drink or two if he wants to, ain't he? He don't look like no kid to need a guardian."

"You keep out of this," said Bert, with a steely glint in his eyes, "this is our business, not yours, and if you want to steer clear of trouble don't try to mix in."

The bartender seamed inclined at first to try the efficacy of force, but as d.i.c.k and Tom ranged up alongside Bert, he thought better of it.

"Awright," he grumbled, "awright. Take the guy along wid youse, an' I wish you joy of him."

Martin at first refused to move, but at last, by dint of much persuasion, the three comrades prevailed on him to go with them. Bert and Tom supported him on either side, guiding his uncertain footsteps to the best of their ability.

"I only hope we don't meet any one we know," said d.i.c.k fervently. "We'd better take a roundabout course going back, so as to take as little chance as possible of that happening."

"It wouldn't be a bad idea," said Tom, "and I think it would be a good stunt for me to go on ahead and do a little scouting. I could meet you at the east gate and let you know if the coast is clear. If possible, we want to get Mart to his room without anybody getting on to the state of affairs."

"All right, go ahead," acquiesced Bert, "we'll get there as soon as we can."

Accordingly Tom set off at a round pace, and soon came within sight of the college towers. Fortunately, there was a swimming contest going on in the natatorium, and many students who ordinarily would have been apt to be wandering about on the campus were indoors watching the swimmers.

There was hardly a soul to be seen, and Tom prayed that the favorable conditions might last until Bert and d.i.c.k arrived with their unfortunate charge.

He hurried to the appointed meeting place, and strained his eyes through the darkness in search of the trio that he knew must be pretty near by this time. Sure enough, in less than five minutes they emerged from a neighboring street, and Tom walked swiftly up to them.

"We're in luck," he said, in a low tone. "Everybody's in the natatorium watching the swimming meet, and we've got the campus practically to ourselves. I'll walk in front of Martin, and the chances are we'll get him to his room without anybody getting wise."

Bert and d.i.c.k accordingly hurried Martin forward as fast as possible, and, as Tom had predicted, found everything favorable to them. They hurried across the deserted campus, and entered the dormitory in which Martin's room was located by a side door.

By the greatest good fortune they met no one in the corridors, and in a very few moments had the "high life" exponent safely in his room.

"Well, that's about all we can do to-night," said Bert, as they were leaving the room. "I think the best thing will be to let him sleep off the effects of his carouse, and then give him a talking to to-morrow."

"I think we'd better leave that to you," said d.i.c.k, after exchanging glances with Tom. "Probably if we all got at him at once, it would only make him obstinate. You do the talking for all of us, Bert. Show Mart what bad medicine he's been mixing, and maybe he'll come around to your point of view."

"Well," agreed Bert, but with evident reluctance, "I suppose that would be the best way to do it. I'll get hold of him some time to-morrow, and talk to him like a Dutch uncle."

Accordingly, the next day he was on the lookout for the backslider.

Several times in the course of the day he saw him, but Martin always managed to avoid him, more by design than accident, as Bert thought. At last, however, after the last recitation period, he cornered him in a secluded corner of the campus.

"I guess you know what I want to say to you, don't you, Mart?" he inquired gravely.

"Oh, yes, I guess I know, all right," the other replied sullenly, "but there's no use your preaching to me about the evils of drink, or anything like that. I've tried to cut out the stuff, and I can't, that's all. I'm going to Reddy to-night and resign from the team."

"You're not going to do anything of the kind," said Bert gravely, "you're going to keep right on being the best halfback the college ever had, but I'm going to ask a personal favor of you on behalf of myself, and also Trent and Henderson."

"I think I know what you mean," said Martin suspiciously, "but fire away and ask it."

"We want you to go to Reddy and make a clean breast of it, ending up by promising to do your best to cut out the 'stuff,'" said Bert. "Will you do it? Don't say no now," as the other started to shake his head, "don't give me an answer now, if you don't want to. Think it over. I'm mighty sure if you think hard enough you'll do what we want you to."

"I'll do it!" exclaimed Martin, suddenly thrusting out his hand, "and I'll let the booze alone in the future if it takes a leg. You and the others have done me a bigger service than you'll ever realize, probably."

"Well, you know the way you can best repay it," said Bert, with a hearty smile, and after another strong handclasp they parted.

Bert went straight to d.i.c.k and Tom, and told them what he had accomplished. "I think he'll keep his word, too," he finished. And as it proved, he, was right. From that day forward Martin reported regularly for practice, and kept strictly to training table regulations. In less than a week he was back to his old time form, and became as he had been before, one of the mainstays of the team.

CHAPTER V

TACKLING THE ARMY

"THIS looks like a case of bearding the lion in his den," remarked d.i.c.k, as the stately steamer on which they had embarked at New York that morning swept up to the landing at West Point, and the boys were gathering up their traps to go ash.o.r.e.

"It's certainly a stiff contract to tackle the future leaders of the United States Army," replied Tom. "But we're the boys to do it, and to lick them, too. If that be treason, make the most of it."

"Don't you be too sure of that," admonished Bert. "From all I hear, they're a husky set of brutes, and we're likely to have our hands full.

They've never been easy picking and we'd better postpone our jubilee till after the game."

"Punk philosophy," countered Tom. "Let's have it now and make sure of it."

He was clearly a hopeless case, and they gave up the task of subduing his levity, and started for the gang plank.

It was a large party that had come up the river on that glorious day in early October, to test the prowess and mettle of the cadets. The team itself with the subst.i.tutes numbered over thirty, and there was a small army of rubbers and other attendants. To these were added several hundred of the college boys, and these were further reinforced by a host of "old grads" who sniffed the battle from afar and couldn't resist the temptation to "come on along," and root for the youngsters on their scalp-hunting expedition.

The game with the Army was always one of the events of the football season. Although not ranked with the "big three," they followed close behind, and once in a while gave the "top-liners" a hard struggle to avoid defeat. Only the year before, they had held the Blues to a 6 to 0 score, and on a muddy field had played a tie with the "Maroons" after a Homeric contest. They were not "easy meat" for any one, and the coaches of every team had learned not to hold them lightly.

This year, disquieting rumors had leaked out from West Point as to the strength of the team. They were said to have the heaviest aggregation behind the line that they had had in twenty years, and it was freely predicted that here, if anywhere, the Blues might find themselves overmatched. The fullback was a new recruit who weighed close to two hundred pounds, and despite his weight was said to be as fast as greased lightning. The two halves were both veterans, and one of them the previous season had been picked for the All-American team in his position. In addition they had a powerful set of guards and tackles, and it was universally acknowledged that their quarterback was one that it would be hard to match on any of the big teams.

Still the Blues were not greatly stirred up by this advance information.

If they were to be "licked," it would have to be by actual speed and muscle on the field, and not by "dope" that might prove fallacious.

"They can't come too big or heavy to suit," philosophized Drake. "The bigger they are the harder they fall."

There was a stiff wind blowing when the rival teams came on the field, and in the toss for position the Army won. As the teams lined up for the kick-off, there was a tremendous outburst of cheers from the Army supporters who, of course, vastly outnumbered the loyal Blues who had accompanied their team. What the latter lacked in numbers, however, was made up by the enthusiasm with which they cheered the wearers of the Blue colors, that had waved triumphantly over so many hard-fought fields, and which, they hoped, was now to add another trophy to their list.

Since the Blues had lost the toss for position, they were ent.i.tled to the kick-off. Bert took careful aim and lifted the ball far and high.

Ordinarily it would have been good for at least fifty yards, but the wind limited it to thirty-five. Caldwell was down under it like a flash, but Birch, of the Army, made a fair catch and kicked back for twenty yards. Drake got possession of the ball, and the Blues had it on the Army's forty yard line.

A forward pa.s.s, superbly engineered by Tom, gave them twelve yards. They gained eight more on two successive downs, but were penalized five yards for off-side play. On the next play they gained their distance, but on the next, in attempting to skirt the end, Axtell dropped the ball, and the Army left pounced upon it instantly.

It was now the Army's ball, and they immediately started to try a plunging game. The Blue line held like a rock, however, and then the Army tried one of their favorite formations. They lined up as though for a kick, but the back who had dropped behind as if for that purpose, either tried a forward pa.s.s or made a quick dash around the ends. To complicate the play still further, it was sometimes pa.s.sed to still another back before the attempt was made. It was a clever "fake," and against a weaker or slower team might have worked. But the Blues had practiced many a weary hour in breaking up just such a combination, and they met it and smothered it so effectually, that before long the Army recognized its futility and fell back on straight football.

And here for the first quarter they fairly held their own. McAlpin, their giant fullback, proved a tower of strength, and when he was given the ball plunged through the line like a thunderbolt. There seemed to be no holding him, and his team backed him up so powerfully that he made his distance easily on the four downs. The ball was still in the Army's possession when the referee's whistle announced the end of the first quarter, and the field was swept by the cheers of the cadets at the gallant way in which their favorites had made a stand against the most famous team in the country.

In the short rest between quarters, there was a hurried council of the Blues.