The outcome of the Forest Hill game was a favorite topic of discussion during the next few days. Although Yardley had won in the last four minutes, by means of a well-earned touchdown following a forward pass, the general opinion was that the Blue had been largely outplayed by a lighter but much faster eleven. Of course, reverses were to be expected, but after Yardley’s showing in the Tyron game it did seem that she should have done better against a “small school team” like Forest Hill. On the other hand, the local football historians reminded that some six seasons ago, Forest Hill had actually won from Yardley, 5 to 3, and that it was no uncommon thing for the smaller school to score against the Blue.

Rumors of changes in the line-up spread, and it was whispered that all was not serene between captain and coach. Arnold was decidedly glum that Saturday evening, and, although the usual excursion to Greenburg in search of moving picture thrills was made, he was no great addition to the company. Afterwards, when they were preparing for bed, Toby told him that he was foolish to let football worry him so. “Any one might think you were captain of the eleven instead of Fanning,” said Toby. “You act——”

“I wish I was—were—was——”

“‘Were’ will do. Why do you wish you was—were?”

“Because I’d drop two or three of the ‘dead-ones’ and have a team instead of a bunch of stars!”

Toby weighed that in silence. Finally: “Who are the ‘dead-ones’?” he asked.

Arnold shook his head. “Guess I oughtn’t to talk about it,” he muttered. “It’s not my business.”

“Right you are! Just remember that. If it’s not your business, don’t worry about it.”

“That’s easy enough to say,” Arnold grumbled. After a moment he said explosively, dropping a shoe to the floor in emphasis: “Why Mr. Lyle doesn’t jump in and fire a couple of those fellows is what gets me! If he hasn’t got the backbone to stand up against Tom he oughtn’t to be coach.”

“Oh, well, the season’s young yet,” answered Toby easily. “Maybe Mr. Lyle is sort of ‘watchful waiting.’ I’m thinking of going to sleep. When you get through holding your foot in your hand and making faces you might put out the light. It works quite easily. You just turn the thingumbob there. Don’t blow it out, please, because——”

“Because it might stop your chatter! All right. Good-night.”

The rumored changes in the First Team line-up didn’t materialize, however; at least not during the following week. Arnold reported that things were going better and gave credit to Mr. Lyle, who, it seemed, had delivered a few well-chosen words on Monday, before practice. “He’s really got some of the loafers at work,” said Arnold. “Even Stone is showing a little animation!”

“Stone being one of the ‘dead-ones’?”

“Well, he hasn’t looked very much alive until this week,” answered Arnold. “I dare say we’ll get our gait by Saturday. They say Brown and Young’s is a tough bunch of scrappers. I hope they are. We need to go up against something that has a wallop!”

“You did that very thing yesterday,” said Toby.

“You’re not far off, at that,” agreed the other. “Your team put up a mighty pretty scrap. If you’d been half as good on defense as you were on attack——”

“Oh, well, I noticed that we held you fellows twice inside our thirty. Hold your horses. We’ll be beating you badly by the end of the month!”

“Rather fancy yourself, don’t you?” jeered Arnold. “By the way, was that your friend Tubbs who played left end for you in the last half?”

“Tubb is the gentleman’s name. What did you think of him?”

“Why, he acted like a crazy Indian! He made me nervous looking at him, and hearing him!”

Toby laughed. “That’s his style, Arn. It’s psychological, you see. He distracts the attention of the opponent from the game. All that jumping and up and down and running around and talking is just to get your goat!”

“Well, he came near getting it, all right! He made as much row as a Broadwood shortstop with the bases full and two down! But he seemed to me to be playing a pretty good game, just the same. He was into everything!”

“Beech says he’s a comer, Arn. If he could only get over the idea that he’s being imposed on by every one he’d get on a heap better.”

“He’s a chronic sorehead and kicker, I suppose. I’ve met one or two like him. Maybe he will get over it in time. How’s that other protÉgÉ of yours, the tennis fiend?”

“Ramsey? I don’t see much of him nowadays. But I know that he’s got in with a fairly decent lot of chaps and looks about fifty per cent better than he did. I told you about his freezing me one night when I went to see him? Had both windows wide open and told me he couldn’t get along without plenty of fresh air. Bet you anything he’d never slept with a window open in his life until Muscles got at him! You know, I think I can take a bit of credit for the—the rejuvenation of friend Ramsey!”

“Well, that’s some word, but I dare say you’re right. Now all you’ve got to do is make Mr. Tubbs over and you’re through.”

“Tubb is a hard-boiled one, Arn, and I haven’t much hope of him. If I liked him a bit better I suppose I’d take more interest in his career——”

“I wish you’d stop talking like a blooming dictionary,” groaned Arnold. “Now dry up and let me take a fall out of this math.”

That week saw two changes in the Second Team. Sid Creel displaced Watson at center and George Tubb was shifted from B Team to A. He and Mawson were used impartially and in the four games that the Second played against the First that week there appeared to be little choice between them. The same could be as truthfully said of Toby and Roy Frick. Sometimes one started the game and sometimes the other, but each had an equal chance. Toby had his shortcomings and so did his rival, Toby’s concerning individual play and Frick’s generalship. Or, perhaps, leadership would be a better word to use. Somehow, or so it seemed to those whose business it was to note such things, the Second Team showed more life and aggressiveness when Toby’s shrill voice called the signals. For Toby’s voice was shrill when he played quarter, though at other times it was an ordinary tenor of middle register, with a pleasant touch of Long Island fog in it. But that first day, when unexpectedly called on to act as quarter-back, Toby’s nervousness had sent his voice several notes up the scale, and for some reason it had never come down again so long as he was giving signals. Arnold likened it to the yelping of a fox terrier one day, and on the next occasion Toby tried hard to bring it back to normal, with the result that it sounded as hoarse as a frog with a bad cold, and no one could hear him!

But at individual playing of the position, Roy Frick was better. Frick was a tricky runner and frequently squirmed outside tackles for needed gains. And he was a dependable punter. Possibly Toby would have showed up better beside Frick at this time if he had had more faith in his own ability, but he was chary of trusting to his own efforts to advance the ball. On catching punts and running them in, he was not much behind his rival, and at punting he was fast catching up with him. But there was no doubt that from the spectator’s point of view Frick was the man for the job.

There had been no resumption of hostilities between the two. Toby was willing to forgive and forget, although he secretly disliked Frick for the latter’s overbearing manner. For his part, Frick had evidently neither forgiven nor forgotten, but he seemed satisfied to let the matter rest as it was. Toby had an idea that the other frequently ridiculed his playing, for sometimes he caught looks of stifled amusement on the faces of Frick’s cronies. As, however, they were seldom on the bench at the same time and, being in different classes and having different circles of friends, scarcely ever encountered each other off the football field, there was little chance for a clash. At training table Frick sat four places from Toby on the same side of the board; and, anyway, at table personal animosities would not be allowed to flourish. Save for an occasional Sunday, Coach Burtis was always in his place at the head, and he had a watchful eye and a careful ear.

On Friday, contrary to custom, the Second Team was led across to the other gridiron for a twelve-minute bout with the First. The First had not pleased Coach Lyle since the Forest Hill game, and the morrow’s contest, with Brown and Young’s School would demand all the Blue had. Toby was sent in at quarter. He noted two changes in the First Team’s line. Casement was playing right guard in place of Snow and Candee was at center in Simpson’s stead. Coach Burtis had instructed him to give the First’s center and right side the brunt of the line attack, and Toby understood now that the substitutes there were to be put to the test. He wondered if either of them suspected and whether their own coach had instigated the ordeal. He felt a bit sorry for Snow, who was rather light for a guard, and hoped he wouldn’t get used too roughly.

There was no kick-off to-day. Instead, Second was given the ball in the middle of the field. Coaches and trainers hovered about like hawks around a chicken yard, and there was much exhorting and last-moment instructing. First Team had been keyed up to the minute, and faces showed strain and poised bodies tension. Toby had Nelson, Lippman, and Crawford behind him, and it was Lippman he chose for that first attack. His voice yelped, Farquhar, left tackle, trotted over to the right of the line, the signal came, and Lippman, seizing the ball at a hand-pass, smashed ahead. Crawford and Toby piled in behind. The First Team line buckled and snapped back again. Jim Rose, big and pink-cheeked, roared defiance. “Second down! Nine!” shouted the referee. Toby grabbed an arm and pulled Lippman out of the pile. Already he was shouting new signals. Again Farquhar shifted, again Lippman took the pass. But this time he shot obliquely to the left, the whole back-field behind him, and plunged at Snow. Through he went, fighting, squirming, turning! two yards—three—four—Then the rout was stayed. A faint “Down” and the blowing of the whistle came together. Toby arose from some one’s unquiet legs and added another note to his voice:

“That’s the stuff, Second! That’s working! Come on, now! Let’s get ’em again! Signal!”

“Five to go!” cried the referee, skipping away.

“Hold that side! Hold that side!” shouted Fanning.

“That was on you, Snow!” Mr. Lyle’s voice was ice-cold. “Don’t let them do it again!”

“Come on, Yardley! Throw ’em back!” called Curran, up-field. “Watch for a forward, there, Ted!”

Again Second smashed at the First’s right guard and center, and again the latter yielded. But Crawford had made only a yard and a half, and now it was fourth down and the forty-yard line was still a good ten feet distant. Grover Beech pulled Toby’s head down and whispered, and Toby gave back a doubtful glance. But Beech’s word was law so long as it didn’t transgress the coach’s instructions, and Toby yielded. “Farquhar back!” he called. “Hold that line, Second!” Farquhar trotted to a kicking position and Nelson slipped into the line. First scented a fake, but covered her field nevertheless. Then the ball shot back to Lippman and he set out around his end, Toby leading. For a moment the play looked good, for First had drawn her back-field away, but Sanford eluded Connell and sent Toby sprawling and Roover got Lippman two yards short of the distance.

First made two at the Second’s left and then kicked. Crawford misjudged the ball badly on his twenty-five yards and it went over his head. Toby fell on it on his fifteen, and two First Team men fell on him. Second plugged the center again for two, and again for one. Then, on a delayed pass, Crawford squirmed through Snow for eight yards and first down. What a scolding there was then! Coach Lyle fairly raised welts. Some one called for time, and Toby, still short of breath from being sat on by the First Team ends, was very glad. Beech led him back.

“Watch Stone,” he said. “He’s coming away in on those plays. Slip one through outside him, Tucker. There’s a fine hole there!”

Toby nodded. “Got to bang the center, though, Beech. Coach’s orders. I’ll try it, though, first time they tighten.”

Toby shifted his line to the left, and First massed to meet the attack. Lippman failed at center, Candee standing like a rock. On a fake-kick, Crawford struck the line hard, but made less than a yard. Crawford gained three through Snow. Farquhar dropped back and Lippman dashed outside Stone and reeled off six yards before he was stopped. With one to go on fourth down, Toby elected to punt, and Farquhar dropped the pigskin on the First’s thirty-yard line. Roover brought it back to near the center of the field before Beech pulled him down.

First worked a neat forward-pass that netted seventeen yards and then smashed through center for five more. Second held twice and First booted over the line. On the twenty-five Toby returned to the attack on Snow and Candee and gained six in three downs. A fake-kick resulted in a fumble and the pigskin went to First on the opponent’s twenty-two. There was no holding the First Team then and she scored in seven plays, Snowden landing the ball near the corner of the field. The punt-out was not allowed and the teams went back to the fifty. Coach Lyle took pity on Snow and that much-mauled youth was removed in favor of Casement. For the Second, Stover and White came on for Lippman and Crawford, and George Tubb for Mawson. Again the kick-off was barred and Second given the ball. Toby tried the new right guard with no gain, got Stover around left for three, failed once more at center and himself punted to First’s twenty. First kicked on second down, Snowden getting nearly fifty yards. Stover caught and dodged back for ten. From the forty, Tubb swung around back and gained midfield on a fine run around the enemy’s left end. Then Toby fumbled and Rose captured the ball for the First. Another forward pass, Curran to Halliday, took the First to the Second’s twenty-four, and from there the First battered her way across for the second score. Before she got it, however, Toby retired groggily and Frick took his place. Toby had ill-advisedly allowed Snowden to sit on his stomach. Frick’s labor was soon over, however, for the First Team’s second touchdown practically ended the game.