Books: Jack Winters\' Gridiron Chums
M >>
Mark Overton >> Jack Winters\' Gridiron Chums
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 Tiffany Vergon, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team.
JACK WINTERS' GRIDIRON CHUMS
BY MARK OVERTON
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. GRUELLING FOOTBALL PRACTICE
II. THE BOY WHO WAS IN TROUBLE
III. BIG BOB CONFESSES
IV. A FRIEND IN NEED
V. A MESSAGE FROM MARSHALL
VI. JACK AND JOEL INVESTIGATE
VII. STRANGE FRUIT FOR A TREE TO BEAR
VIII. A CALL FOR HELP
IX. HEADED FOR THE FIELD OF BATTLE
X. WHEN THE GREAT GAME OPENED
XI. THE STRUGGLE ON THE GRIDIRON
XII. GLORY ENOUGH FOR ALL
XIII. WHEN BED FIRE BURNED IN CHESTER
XIV. WHAT FOLLOWED THE CELEBRATION
XV. IN THE BURNING HOUSE
XVI. JACK SPEAKS FOR LITTLE CARL
XVII. THE AFTERMATH OF A GOOD DEED
XVIII. BIG BOB BRINGS NEWS
XIX. LOCKING HORNS WITH HARMONY
XX. THE GREAT VICTORY--CONCLUSION
JACK WINTERS' GRIDIRON CHUMS
CHAPTER I
GRUELLING FOOTBALL PRACTICE
A shrill whistle sounded over the field where almost two dozen
sturdily built boys in their middle 'teens, clad in an astonishing
array of old and new football togs, had been struggling furiously.
Instantly the commotion ceased as if by magic at this intimation from
the coach, who also acted in practice as referee and umpire combined,
that the ball was to be considered "dead."
Some of those who helped to make the pack seemed a bit slow about
relieving the one underneath of their weight, for a half-muffled voice
oozed out of the disintegrating mass:
"Get off my back, some of you fellows, won't you? What d'ye take me
for--a land tortoise?"
Laughing and joking, the remaining ingredients of the pyramid
continued to divorce themselves from the heap that at one time had
appeared to consist principally of innumerable arms and legs.
Last of all a long-legged boy with a lean, but good-natured face, now
streaked with perspiration and dirt, struggled to his feet, and began
to feel his lower extremities sympathetically, as though the terrific
strain had centered mostly upon that particular part of his anatomy.
But under his arm he still held pugnaciously to the pigskin oval ball.
The coach, a rather heavy-set man who limped a little, now came
hurrying up. Joe Hooker had once upon a time been quite a noted
college athlete until an accident put him "out of the running," as he
always explained it.
He worked in one of Chester's big mills, and when a revolution in
outdoor sports swept over the hitherto sleepy manufacturing town, Joe
Hooker gladly consented to assume the congenial task of acting as
coach to the youngsters, being versed in all the intricacies of gilt-
edged baseball and football.
It had been very much owing to his excellent work as a severe drill-
master that Chester, during the season recently passed, had been able
actually to win the deciding game of baseball of the three played
against the hitherto invincible Harmony nine.
Mr. Charles Taft, principal owner of the mill in question, was in full
sympathy with this newly aroused ambition on the part of the Chester
boys to excel in athletic sports. He himself had been a devoted
adherent of all such games while in college, and the fascination had
never entirely died out of his heart. So he saw to it that Joe Hooker
had considerable latitude in the way of afternoons off, in order that
the town boys might profit by his advice and coaching.
"A clever run, that, Joel," he now told the bedraggled boy who had
just been downed, after dragging two of his most determined opponents
several yards. "The ball still belongs to your side. Another yard, my
lad, and you would have made a clean touchdown. A few weeks of hard
practice like this and you boys, unless I miss my guess, ought to be
able to put old Chester on the gridiron map where she belongs. Now
let's go back to the tackle job again, and the dummy. Some of you, I'm
sorry to say, try to hurl yourselves through the air like a catapult,
when the rules of the game say plainly that a tackle is only fair and
square so long as one foot remains in contact with the ground."
So Joe Hooker had been laying down the law to his charges every decent
afternoon, when school was out, for going on two weeks now. He seemed
to feel very much encouraged over the progress made by a number of the
boys.
Already he had weeded out three aspirants for honors on the eleven,
who had shown no genuine aptitude for the exciting game where headwork
and footwork combined go to bring success.
Others feared the coach had his eagle eye fastened on them, being
doubtless conscious-stricken with the knowledge that they were not in
their element. Indeed, it was no unusual thing to hear one of these
boys say to his mates that he hardly knew whether he cared to try for
the squad after all; which admission would serve to let him down
gracefully in case his suspicions were later on confirmed.
But there were others who developed wonderfully under the friendly
instruction of the one-time star player. Among them, besides the tall
chap, Joel Jackman, might be mentioned a number of boys whose
acquaintance the reader of other volumes in this series has already
formed.
There was Jack Winters, looked upon as a leader in all sports, and
late captain of the baseball nine; it seemed to be already taken for
granted that he was bound to be given some position on the gridiron,
for Jack seemed to have a wonderful faculty for getting the best out
of those who played in strenuous games with him.
Jack Winters was really something of a newcomer in Chester, but he had
hardly landed in the old town than something seemed to awaken; for
Jack made up his mind it was a shame that, with so much good material
floating around loose, Chester could not emulate the example of the
neighboring towns of Harmony and Marshall, and do something. There
were those who said Jack's coming was to Chester like the cake of
yeast set in a pan of dough, for things soon began to happen.
Then there was Toby Hopkins, one of Jack's particular chums, a lively
fellow, and a general favorite. Another who bore himself well, and
often elicited a word of praise from the coach, was sturdy Steve
Mullane, also a chum of the Winters boy. Besides these, favorable
mention might also be made of Big Bob Jeffries, who surely would be
chosen to play fullback on account of his tremendous staying
qualities; Fred Badger, the lively third baseman who had helped so
much to win that deciding game from Harmony before a tremendous crowd
of people over in the rival town; and several other boys who may be
recognized as old acquaintances when the time comes to describe their
doings on the gridiron.
It was now well into October.
Already the leaves had begun to turn scarlet and gold on some of the
hedges, and even in the forest, where the boys were beginning to go
for the early nuts. Early in the mornings there was a decided tang to
the air that hinted at frost. Considerable talk was being indulged in
whenever a group of boys came together, concerning the prospects for a
regular old-fashioned winter, and many hopes along this line were
indulged in.
There was a good reason for this, Chester being most favorably
situated to afford her young people a chance to enjoy ice sports when
the bitter weather came along. Right at her door lay beautiful Lake
Constance, several miles across; and the intake at the upper end near
the abandoned logging camp was the crooked and picturesque Paradise
River, where wonderful vistas opened up with each hundred yards, did
any one care to skate up its course for miles.
And with this newly aroused spirit for outdoor sports in the air, also
a splendid gymnasium in the course of building where the boys of
Chester could enjoy themselves stormy days, and many nights, during
the winter, it can be easily understood that a glorious prospect
loomed up before them. Why, over in Harmony they were getting
decidedly envious of the good luck that had befallen Chester; and all
reports agreed that their football squad was working fiercely overtime
with the idea of overwhelming utterly all rivals on the gridiron, once
the Fall sports opened.
By slow degrees, as he saw best, Joe Hooker was leading his charges
along the rugged path; for there is no loyal road to a knowledge of
the intricacies of successful football. Constant practice alone will
make a player act through intuition, since the plays are so lightning-
like that there is never any time to figure out what is to be done;
all that must be considered beforehand, and the player be able to
decide what the most probable scheme of his opponents is likely to be.
After they had again gone through a series of tackles, using the
dangling dummy for the practice, and being shown by old Joe in a
spectacular fashion just what was the proper and lawful method of
interfering with the man who was supposed to be running with the ball,
play was called off for the day.
It was about time, for some of the fellows were panting for breath,
owing to the vigorous way in which they had been working. Besides,
most of them would need a bath before they could be allowed to sit
down at the family table.
"I've been asked by several persons deeply interested in football,"
Joe Hooker remarked, as they gathered around him for a parting word,
some looking anxious, as though they half expected to receive their
dismissal then and there, though it was not Joe's way to "rub" it into
any one, "what chance we had to meet Harmony with a team that would be
a credit to Chester. To all such I give the same answer. There is no
reason to despair. We have plenty of promising material, though it
will need constant whipping to get it in shape between now and the
first game with Marshall. That will be a test. If we down those
fighters we can hope to meet Harmony on something like even terms.
Tomorrow I shall have to drop out several boys who, I'm sorry to say,
do not show the proper qualifications for the rough game; but I want
them to understand that we appreciate their offering their services,
and we need their backing all the time. Our motto must be 'Everything
for Chester!' Now get away with you, and if the day is half-way
decent, meet me here tomorrow, prepared to strive harder than ever to
hustle for victory."
And with that the boys commenced to start homeward.
CHAPTER II
THE BOY WHO WAS IN TROUBLE
As usually happened, the three inseparables, Jack, Toby and Steve,
kept company on the way home. They had much in common, and only that
summer the trio had spent a glorious two weeks camping up in the woods
of the Pontico Hills country. There were a number of remarkable things
connected with that outing, and if the reader has not enjoyed already
its perusal, he would do well to secure the preceding volume of this
series, and learn just what astonishing feat Jack and his chums
carried to success.[Footnote: "Jack Winters' Campmates."]
"I wish both of you could drop over after supper," Toby Hopkins was
saying as they trudged along with the air of tired though contented
boys. "I've got those plans for our new iceboat nearly finished, with
several novel suggestions which I'd like to ask your opinion about
before I order the wood to make it in my shop."
"I guess I can run across lots, and spend half an hour with you,
Toby," Jack announced; "though I couldn't promise to stay late,
because I ought to be doing some of my lessons, you know. This
football work afternoons throws everything out of gear."
"Sorry to say I'll have to beg off this time," said Steve. "Fact is,
I've got a date, and couldn't break away very easily. Another time
will have to do, Toby. And of course whatever you and Jack decide on
goes with me, you understand."
In fact it was almost always that way, such unlimited confidence had
both Toby and Steve come to place in Jack Winters. But then he merited
all their high esteem, for rarely did things go wrong when Jack's hand
was at the helm; he seemed to be one of those fellows whose judgment
is right nine times out of ten. Looking back, the Chester lads could
begin to understand what a great day it had been for them when Jack
came to town, full of ideas which he had imbibed in the lively city
where his folks had formerly lived.
"I'm more than ever convinced," Toby went on to say, reflectively,
"that we'll be able to put a flier on the ice this coming winter that
will have everything beaten a mile. It works out all right in theory
anyway."
"The proof of the pudding is in the eating," chuckled Steve, who
apparently was not built along quite as sanguine lines as Toby. "But
then it'll be a heap of fun to try something new. All the iceboats
I've ever seen around here have always been built after the same old
model. Nobody ever seemed to think they could be improved on the least
bit; and that it was only a matter of the pilot jockeying in order to
blanket his rival and win out."
"Joe Hooker seems to be taking considerable stock in what we're doing
to build up a machine for gridiron work," mentioned Jack, with a ring
of satisfaction in his voice. "I certainly hope we can make things hum
around here this Fall. Chester's hour has struck, it seems; and after
our baseball victories we ought to be just in time to carry our colors
to a sweeping triumph over Harmony and Marshall."
"Some of the boys are showing up splendidly," Steve continued. "I'm a
whole lot disappointed, though, in my work today, but I expect to
improve, and hope to make the team when the final choice is reached."
"Huh! I guess there isn't much chance of _you_ being dropped, Steve,"
snorted Toby. "I only wish I was as sure of being retained on the
honor roll. That run of mine today was as punk a thing as any
greenhorn could have attempted. I saw Joe look at me as if he'd like
to eat me, and I felt so small I could have crawled into any old rat-
hole. But I mean to surprise him yet, see if I don't. I've got the
faith to believe I can play quarterback, and I will, I tell you; I'm
thinking of it most of the night while I lie awake."
"That kind of grit will take you a long ways, Toby, believe me, "said
Jack encouragingly. "All of us fall far short of perfection; but Joe
is persistent and I've no doubt he already knows just who the members
of the team will be, barring accidents, also the substitutes in the
bargain."
"We were mighty lucky to have such a dandy coach right at hand,"
declared Steve; "and Mr. Taft is the best sort of a man to lend him to
us so much, at a loss to himself. He contributed heavily to the fund
for building the gym, too, I understand."
"Yes," added Jack, "a town that has a few public-spirited citizens of
his type is to be congratulated. But here's where I leave you, and
hike across lots to my shack, where a nice bath awaits me. See you
later, Toby; and sorry you can't join us, Steve."
"Oh! bother," chuckled Toby, maliciously; "he's got something a whole
lot better to attend to than just jabbering with his two chums over
the lines of a projected iceboat wonder."
Good-natured Steve only laughed in return, though had the gloaming not
been settled down so early, the other fellows might have seen his
cheeks flaming; for Steve was an exceedingly modest chap, and easily
flustered.
Jack Winters reached home, and had his bath in time to come to the
table when the supper bell rang. And it goes without saying that his
appetite showed no sign of flagging on that occasion, for football
work is calculated to put a keen edge on a boy's natural desire for
food.
Later on he again set forth, after a hack at his lessons, and turned
to make his way across lots along a well-worn path, in this fashion
cutting off several corners, and shortening the distance, which is
apparently a thing desired by every American lad.
It was about eight when he arrived at the Hopkins domicile, and was
let in by Toby himself. The other seemed wildly excited, for the first
thing he did was to burst forth with:
"Jack, I've gone and done it, I do believe, this time! Yes, sir, I've
struck an idea that promises fairly to revolutionize iceboats. It came
to me like a flash, and I'm wild to know what you think about it."
Jack did not enthuse as much as Toby would have liked to see. Truth to
tell, Jack had known several of these wonderful "theories" which Toby
had conjured up, to fail in coming up to expectation when put to the
test; so he did not allow himself to anticipate too much.
Nevertheless when the idea was gone over he admitted that there might
really be something in it.
"Perhaps you _have_ struck something worth while at last, Toby," he
told the other, "and we can work it out by degrees when we get down
to actual business. Evidently, you've got an inventive mind, and you
needn't despair if a whole lot of your ideas do go by the board. Every
inventor has conceived a score of schemes to one he's adopted. Even a
failure may be the stepping-stones to success, you know." "That's
good of you to say as much, Jack, old chap, when I do think up some of
the greatest fool notions ever heard of," acknowledged Toby; "but it's
my plan to keep right on, and encourage my brain to work along that
groove. I feel it's going to be my forte in life to invent things. I'd
rather be known as the man who had lightened the burdens of mankind
than to be a famous general who had conquered the world."
Jack did not stay longer than half an hour, but during that time he
went over the whole scheme of building the new iceboat in Toby's shop.
"I've got all the specifications down in black and white, you see,
Jack," the other said at the door, "as to what we'll need; and now
that you've approved, I shall start right in and order the stuff
tomorrow. The sooner we get started the better; though I don't suppose
we'll really have much spare time to work at it until after
Thanksgiving, and the big game with Harmony is over."
So Jack said goodnight and went out of the front door. Usually he was
wont to whistle as he crossed the lots that would serve as a short cut
to his own house; but somehow tonight he was busily engaged with his
thoughts, and forgot to indulge in this favorite pastime.
It was a moonless night.
The stars shone brightly in the blue dome above, but gave very little
light; although it was not really dark anywhere inside the confines of
Chester, since the streets were pretty generally illuminated with
electricity.
Jack had just started across lots when he made a discovery that
aroused his curiosity a little. There was a queer sort of light
flickering beyond him. He quickly realized that some person must be
walking the same way as he was, and carrying one of those useful
little hand-electric torches, which he seemed to be moving this way
and that in an erratic fashion.
"Whoever it is," Jack told himself presently, "I do believe he is
looking in the grass for something he's lost."
Walking on and a bit faster than the unknown seemed to be going, he
soon drew closer, and was able to see that it was a boy who bent over
and scrutinized everything upon which the light of his flashlight
fell. Once he uttered an exclamation of sudden delight and made a jump
forward, only to stop short, and give a doleful grant as though
discovering his mistake.
"Oh! how cruel to fool me so," Jack heard him mutter to himself; "only
a scrap of waste paper, and I thought I'd found it. Twice now I've
gone over the whole lot, and never a trace have I seen. Oh! what shall
I do about it? I wish I knew."
Jack by now had recognized the boy as Big Bob Jeffries, the heavy-
hitting outfielder of the Chester baseball team, and who was admitted
as standing a first-rate chance to be made the sturdy fullback of the
new eleven in football.
He was filled with curiosity to know what ailed Big Bob. Something he
must have certainly lost which he was now endeavoring to find again,
and, if his lament was to be taken at its face value, without much
success.
Jack was always ready to lend a helping hand to a comrade in distress.
He had proved this on numerous former occasions, so that his first
thought was to speak to Big Bob, and ask what was wrong.
At the sound of his voice the other started as though shot, and Jack
could see that his face, usually florid and cheery, looked white and
drawn. Undoubtedly, then, the Jeffries boy was suffering acutely on
account of some carelessness on his own part. Jack suspected that he
might have lost some money which he had been carrying home for his
mother. As the path was used by a number of persons to "cut corners,"
it would be next door to a miracle if the lost cash were found again,
unless the one who had picked it up proved to be an honest citizen.
"Oh! is that you, Jack?" said Bob, in a trembling tone, as he turned
his flashlight so that its rays fell full upon the other boy. "You
certainly did give me an awful jolt, because I didn't dream anybody
was so near by. On your way home, I reckon? Well, I suppose I might as
well give it up, and go home, too; but I hate to the worst kind, I
sure do."
"What's the matter--lost something, Bob?" asked Jack, joining the
other.
Bob Jeffries did not answer for a brief time. He was apparently
pondering over the matter, and trying to decide in his mind just how
far he ought to take Jack into his confidence. Then, as though some
sudden impulse urged him to make a clean breast of the facts, he broke
out with:
"Jack, to tell you the honest truth, I'm in just a peck of trouble for
a fact. You asked me if I lost anything, and you'll think me a bit
daffy when I tell you I don't know--I only fear the worst. I'm going
to tell you all about it, Jack, because I feel sure you'll never give
me away; and maybe yon might even help me."
CHAPTER III
BIG BOB CONFESSES
"Look here, Bob, suppose we adjourn over to my house and have our
little talk out in my den. I've got some comfortable chairs there, as
you happen to know; and it'll be a heap better than standing here,
where people may come along any old time and interrupt us."
That last line of argument seemed to convince Bob, for he immediately
agreed.
"The fact is, Jack," he went on to say, "I wouldn't want to have
anybody hear what I'm going to tell you now. It certainly is a shame
how I've muddled this thing up, and I guess I deserve all I'm getting
in the shape of worry. It's going to be a lesson to me, I give you my
word on that, Jack."
They were trudging along in company when Big Bob said that. Of course
such talk could only excite Jack's natural curiosity still more. He
began to understand that whatever the other had been searching for was
not his own property, for he was hardly the kind of fellow, inclined
to be careless, and free from anxiety, to let such a personal loss
bother him greatly.
Presently the pair found themselves in Jack's particular room, which
he, like most boys of the present day, liked to call his "den." It was
an odd-shaped room for which there had really been no especial use,
and which the boy had fitted up with a stove, chairs, table and
bookcases, also covering the walls with college pennants, and all
manner of things connected with boys' sports.
Jack closed the door carefully.
"Pick your chair, Bob, and I'll draw up close to you," he said,
briskly, as though bent on raising the other's drooping spirits
without any delay, just by virtue of his own cheery manner.
Bob looked as though he had lost his last friend. He sighed and then
started to tell just what ailed him.
"Seems like I've grown three years older since I suddenly failed to
remember about that particular letter father gave me to be sure to
post before the afternoon mail went out. I had some others, you see,
two of my own, and three that Mom gave me. I can recollect shoving
them in the shute one by one; but for the life of me, Jack, I can't
say positively that the one going across to England was with the
bunch. Oh! it gave me a cold chill when I first had that awful thought
I'd lost it on the way. I remembered pulling something out of my
pocket when crossing that shortcut path, and that's why I hurried
there with my light, hoping to discover it in the grass."
Jack understood what lay back of this. He chanced to know Bob's father
was reckoned a very stern man, and that he had grown weary of Bob's
customary way of forgetting things, or doing them in a slipshod
fashion. He even knew that Mr. Jeffries had laid down the law to his
son, and promised to punish him severely the next time he showed such
carelessness.
"It's too bad, Bob, of course it is, but then don't despair yet," Jack
told the other boy. "There is always a good chance that you did put
that particular letter in the post-office. We'll try to find out if
Mr. Dickerson, the postmaster, or his assistant, chanced to notice a
letter addressed to England. It must have been of considerable
importance, I take it from what you've said already."
"It was just that, Jack; and father impressed its importance on me
when he handed it to me stamped, and ready to go. I think it means
something big in a business deal of his. Now, in these times when war
has gripped nearly the whole world, Uncle Sam with the rest, it's a
long wait before you can expect an answer to a letter going abroad,
even if the German submarines allow it to reach there. And if I don't
find out the truth now, just think of the days and weeks I'll be
worrying my head off about that letter! Oh! it makes me just sick to
even think of it. I could kick myself with right good pleasure."
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9