CHAPTER XII
Testing Their Mettle
There was a cheer from Garry Grayson's mates as they crowded closer to their leader.
"We'll show that team where it gets off," promised Bill Sherwood, as he flexed his muscles.
"We'll eat 'em up," declared Ted.
Practically all of the Lenox High students were on the field that day, reinforced by a sprinkling of boys from the grammar schools who had come to see how their old-time favorites performed. These latter, together with the freshmen, were about the only ones who were rooting for the scrubs. The upper classmen were partisans of the regulars and looked for nothing less than a sound beating for the scrubs. And they greeted the latter with unflattering comments as they came out on the field.
"Lambs coming to the slaughter!"
"What the regulars won't do to them!"
"Call for the ambulance to carry them home!"
Sandy Podder and Lent Stewart were foremost among those who sent these and other contemptuous gibes at the second string team.
"Here's where that false alarm, Garry Grayson, gets his," Sandy remarked to Lent. "Now he's playing against a real team. That swelled head of his will be a mighty sight smaller when he gets through."
"There won't be anything left of him but a grease spot at the end of the game," predicted Lent.
It had been arranged that the periods would be for twelve minutes each instead of the usual fifteen, as the coach did not want to take too much out of the boys at the start of the season.
Garry won the toss and elected to kick off. The teams lined up on the scrubs' forty-yard line and Rooster Long sent the ball hurtling down the field for thirty yards. Dittler gobbled the ball and ran it back for five yards before he was downed by Nick.
The ball was in the possession of the regulars on their thirty-five yard line. Ralph Wynn passed the ball to Knapp, who plunged through the line for four yards. Another try netted him only one additional yard. Dittler found a hole between tackle and guard that was good for three yards more, and on the fourth down Wynn himself got through for three.
The regulars had made their distance and still retained possession of the ball.
"What did I tell you!" chuckled Sandy.
"Ye-e-s," admitted Lent hesitatingly. "But after all they had only a yard to spare."
"I tell you it will be a massacre," declared Sandy, who now settled down comfortably to watch the fulfillment of his prediction.
"Brace up, fellows," Garry panted to his companions. "They're not such a much. We nearly held them that time. Next time we'll get the ball."
But the regulars had already awakened to the fact that the scrubs were not going to be such a "pudding" as had been anticipated, and they summoned all their energy to make the next four downs yield a more impressive result.
It seemed as though they were going to do it, too, for on the first try Dittler plunged through a hole between guard and tackle for six yards. That was so good that he tried again, but Pete Maddern tackled him savagely and threw him back for three yards.
Wynn himself took the ball for the next play, but though he launched himself at the line like a thunderbolt he made only two yards.
With five yards to go on the fourth down and such a stiff defense to combat, Wynn tried a forward pass to Minter. But Minter, usually reliable, fumbled it and the ball fell to the ground.
Garry pounced on it like a flash and, tucking it securely under his arm, skirted the right end, running like a deer.
He was nearly forced out of bounds by Thomas, but dodged adroitly to the left, and with Ted and Rooster running as his interference sped down the field.
The action had been so quick and unexpected that the regulars were taken completely by surprise. Knapp made a dash for Garry, but Rooster gave him a stiff shoulder block that rolled him over and over. Dittler made for him, but Garry straight-armed him and kept on.
But now the whole team of the regulars was on his trail like a pack of wolves. On he went like the wind, the cheers of the crowd sounding in his ears, his eyes on the goal posts.
Twenty yards away! Fifteen! Ten!
Wynn himself now was close on his heels. He was a fast runner and was desperate to prevent the threatened touchdown.
Five yards, and Garry felt rather than saw that Wynn's outstretched arms were reaching for him. With one last tremendous effort he threw himself toward the line and went over it, still holding the ball a foot in advance of him.
Wynn had hurled himself at him and came down on top of him. But he was too late. The touchdown had been made, and the score was 6 to 0 in favor of the scrubs!
Garry rose from the ground, panting, bruised, all in, but radiantly happy.
"Well run, Grayson!" said Wynn generously, as he clapped the boy on the shoulder.
"You almost got me though," returned Garry. "It was a mighty close call."
Rooster kicked the goal, adding one more point to the score of the scrubs.
The latter were jubilant, while the regulars looked sheepish and discomfited.
Sandy Podder rubbed his eyes as though he could not believe what he saw.
"He wouldn't have made that if Minter hadn't fumbled," he said. "Any one can pick up a ball when somebody else muffs it."
"You've got to admit that he was the only one who did pick it up though there were twenty-one others who might have done it," said Stewart. "I suppose now he'll have a bigger swelled head than ever."
"He'll get his just the same before the game's over," prophesied Sandy. "It was just a bit of beginner's luck."
Thompson kicked off to Dittler, who caught the ball on his ten-yard line and ran it back twenty-four yards before he was tackled so hard by Maddern that he was knocked breathless. The ball was recovered by Payne and it was the regulars' ball on the scrubs' thirty-three yard line. Knapp broke through the scrub line for a twelve-yard gain and a first down on the scrubs' twenty-one yard line. Not satisfied with that, he made a further gain of three yards between left and tackle. A forward pass failed, but on the fourth down Wynn dropped back and made a drop-kick that sailed over the bar like a bird, scoring three points for the regulars.
This was equalled five minutes later when Nick also kicked a field goal.
Both sides were fighting hard now, and the ball went back and forth, mostly in the territory of the scrubs, till the period ended with the score 10 to 3 in favor of the despised scrubs.
There was plenty of cheering from the freshmen and the grammar school boys, while the upper classmen were for the most part glum and silent.
The face of Coach Garwin was as inscrutable as that of the Sphinx. But he was not averse to seeing the regulars take their medicine—it would be a good thing to have some of their overconfidence knocked out of them—and it pleased him to see the kind of material he had on the scrubs. The time might come when he would need it all.
In the minute of rest between the first and second period Wynn passed among his men, spurring them on to avoid the disgrace that threatened of being beaten by the scrubs.
Garry, too, improved the opportunity to give his jubilant mates a word of warning.
"Don't get too chesty, fellows," he admonished. "We've just started to fight. The hardest part is yet to come. Seven points to the good is seven points, but the game is young yet. They're more dangerous now than they were before, because they know they've got to work to beat us. Keep it up, fellows, keep it up!"
The first period had ended with the ball only twenty yards away from the scrubs' goal line and in the possession of the regulars.
The latter started off with a savage rush that almost swept the scrubs off their feet. Evidently Wynn's exhortations had had their effect. Knapp went through for seven yards on the first down. Dittler tried next but was thrown back for a loss of two. Knapp was called on again to carry the ball, and justified the choice by getting through for three more with the whole of the scrub team on his back. With only two to go Wynn made a gain of four, the regulars thus holding possession of the ball on the scrubs' eight-yard line.
Garry called on his team mates desperately to brace. But the regulars were too close now to be denied. Dittler plunged through for three, added two more on the second try, and on the third Payne crossed the coveted line for a touchdown. Thomas was called on to kick the goal, but the ball hit one of the posts and was deflected. But the regulars had added six points to their score and were only one behind the total of the scrubs.
For the rest of the period the fighting was fast and furious. At one time the scrubs came dangerously near scoring when Rooster, who was carrying the ball, was downed within ten yards of the regulars' goal. But Payne kicked the ball out of danger, and the period ended without further scoring, with the pigskin in the middle of the field.
The twelve minutes of rest between the second and the third periods was welcomed by both teams. They had been playing at the top of their speed and were thoroughly winded.
On the whole, honors had been even. Both teams had played good ball considering that it was the first real game of the season. Fumbles had been few and only two of them had been costly. Coach Garwin was secretly elated, though his sleepy-lidded eyes betrayed little of his real emotions.
The scrubs sprawled out on the gymnasium floor, more exhausted perhaps than the bigger and older boys on the regulars. But what they lacked in breath they made up in exultation. They had held the regulars down! They were a point ahead!
"How dared we do it?" grinned Ted.
"Mighty impudent of us, if you ask me," replied Rooster.
"Did you see Sandy Podder biting his nails?" asked Nick. "Gee, I'd like to win if for nothing else than to make that boob sore."
"Lent Stewart seemed just about as grouchy," added Bill.
"Let's make them grouchier yet," urged Garry. "Let's go in and lick the tar out of the regulars. All we've got to do is to hold them safe and the game is ours. That one little point we have looks to me as big as a house."
It looked that big to the regulars, too, though from a different angle, and they started to wipe it out from the very beginning of the third period.
Thompson kicked off to Knapp, who returned twenty-two yards. Dittler shot around the scrubs' right end for nine yards. A forward pass made the yard that gave the regulars their distance. McCarty made a yard, but Knapp lost ground on an attempted end run. Dittler shot through the scrubs' right side for a five-yard gain. Knapp then punted to the scrubs' twenty-five yard line, Rooster signaling for a fair catch.
The scrubs failed to gain, and Rooster dropped back for a punt. The regulars' linesmen hurried the kick, and the ball went up almost straight in the air, netting the scrubs only ten yards and giving the regulars the ball on the scrubs' twenty-nine yard line. On two plays Wynn gained five yards. Then he broke loose and got the ball through to the scrubs' fifteen-yard line.
This was dangerously close, and the scrubs braced desperately. Dittler failed to gain around the right end. Knapp lost ground on an attempted run around left.
It was third down with eleven yards to gain. Then Dittler went back to try a forward pass. He was smeared, however, and the scrubs took the ball on downs on their own twenty-five yard line.
Tom Allison lost eight yards on an end run. Then he punted to Knapp, who was downed in his tracks by Rooster before he could make a move. Garry, aided by splendid interference by Bill, who bowled over his opponents one after the other, made a run of thirty-eight yards, bringing the ball well down in the enemy's territory.
The scrubs gained only two yards on the first two downs. Then they were penalized five yards for off-side play. An attempted forward pass was incompleted and on the fourth down they made only two yards, the ball going to the regulars.
Then the latter began a steady march down the field. They were fighting like mad to make a touchdown before the period ended. They wanted to smother that one point lead to which the scrubs clung with such desperate tenacity.
Twice in succession the regulars made their distance, aided by a splendid run of Benny Knapp's, who ran twenty-two yards before Bill Sherwood downed him.
Closer and closer they came to the scrubs' goal. The superior beef of the older and better trained boys was beginning to tell. Their lighter opponents fought frantically to hold them back. What they were fighting for now was time.
Twenty yards! Ten yards! And the regulars still held the ball!
"Hold 'em, fellows, hold 'em!" gasped Garry, whose nose was bleeding while one of his eyes was closing from the furious mix-ups in which he had ever been foremost. "For the love of Pete, hold 'em!"