The Boys of Columbia High on the Gridiron

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[Illustration: COOTS WAS DOWNED BY A FIERCE TACKLE ON THE PART OF
SHADDUCK.]

THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH ON THE GRIDIRON

OR

The Struggle for the Silver Cup

BY GRAHAM B. FORBES

AUTHOR OF "THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH," "THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH
ON THE DIAMOND," ETC.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. OUT FOR PRACTICE

II. ON THE ROAD TO TOWN

III. THE STRANGE HISTORY OF RALPH

IV. TREACHERY IN THE CAMP

V. THE SIGNAL PRACTICE

VI. AT THE SINGING SCHOOL

VII. THE ABDUCTION OF "BONES"

VIII. THE LINE-UP WITH CLIFFORD

IX. A HARD FOUGHT FIRST-HALF

X. A SCENE NOT DOWN ON THE BILLS

XI. CLIFFORD'S LAST HOPE

XII. DR. SHADDUCK FEARS AN EPIDEMIC

XIII. THE GREAT MARSH

XIV. THE DANGERS OF THE MUCK HOLE

XV. FRANK TURNS CHAUFFEUR

XVI. AN UNWILLING PILOT

XVII. A DESPERATE REMEDY

XVIII. MATCHING WITS

XIX. AT THE END OF THE CIRCUIT

XX. FRANK'S LUCK

XXI. THE LIFTING OF THE CLOUD

XXII. HOW BELLPORT BUCKED THE LINE

XXIII. WON BY FOUR INCHES

XXIV. THE MESSAGE FROM TOKIO--CONCLUSION

THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH ON THE GRIDIRON

CHAPTER I

OUT FOR PRACTICE

"Oh, what a splendid kick!"

The yellow pigskin football went whizzing through the air, turning
over and over in its erratic flight.

"Wow! Look at old Sorreltop run, will you?"

"He's bound to get under it, too. That's going some, fellows! Oh,
shucks!"

"Ha! ha! a fumble and a muff, after all! That's too bad, after
such a great gallop. Now Clack's got the ball, and a clear field
ahead for a run! Go it, you wild broncho! Say, look there, will
you, Tony; Ralph West thinks he can tackle that flying tornado!"

"Will he? Maybe, maybe not, fellows!" called out the ever-skeptical
Jack Eastwick, as he watched the rapidly nearing figures. Jack
was on the regular team, but not playing that afternoon.

"There, he's done it! Wasn't that tackle a screamer, though? That
man West belongs with the regulars. He's too good for the scrub
team. Mark my words, when we go up against Clifford he'll be doing
duty with Columbia's eleven!"

"Bah!" sneered Tony Gilpin. "He's still only a greeny; never saw a
football till he came here last year. Bones Shadduck taught him
all he knows about the game. Take him away from his teacher, and
the little boy would be hopelessly foundered, and you know it,
too, Herman Hooker."

Herman was Columbia's "cheer captain." His sonorous voice aroused
more enthusiasm among the struggling athletes when the prospects
seemed dark and forbidding, than all other elements combined. As
soon as it boomed out over a hotly-contested field, every Columbia
fellow seemed to take on fresh confidence, and in many instances
that meant a new determination to win the victory.

Herman looked at the last speaker, and smiled broadly. It was well
known among the students of Columbia High School that Tony Gilpin
still entertained great hopes of holding his place on the regular
team; but his play was not up to the standard of the preceding
year, and dark hints had gone abroad that in all probability he
would be dropped, for "a dark horse."

As this latter must of necessity be taken from the scrub team, it
can be easily understood why Tony showed so much concern over the
playing of the newcomer, Ralph West.

"Why ain't you practicing with your team this P. M., instead of
loafing around here watching the scrub eleven do things." remarked
Charlie Scott, one of the group. "It can't be possible that a
seasoned veteran of two years' experience can pick up points from
a come-on?"

"I strained my leg a bit yesterday, and the coach advised me to
give it a rest for a day. When I tackle I'm apt to go at a man
without regard to consequences; and sometimes the jar is fierce,"
explained Tony, sneeringly.

"Well, if you can beat that work of Ralph West, you're going some,
now; take it from me, son," commented Herman, with fatherly
interest, and simply a desire to see the best man on the regular
team when the auspicious day dawned that lined Columbia's eleven
up against the warriors of Clifford.

Tony made no verbal reply, but his brow grew dark, as he once
again shot a look of hatred toward the player who had made that
brilliant flying tackle.

The big town of Columbia was situated on the Harrapin River, with
Clifford nearly four miles above, and the manufacturing town of
Bellport twice that distance down-stream.

Of course, as each of these bustling places boasted of a high
school, the consequent rivalries of the students had blossomed out
into a league. In various sports they were determined rivals, and
the summer just passed had witnessed a bitter fight between the
baseball clubs of the three towns, in which Columbia won out after
a fierce contest.

Among the Columbia students there were also strivings after
supremacy in many gymnastic feats, as well as between the several
classes, each of which was jealous of the others when it came to
giving spreads. Many of the deeply interesting happenings along
this line that marked the preceding Winter and Spring have been
chronicled in the first volume of this series, called: "The Boys
of Columbia High; or, The All-Around Rivals of the School."

With the coming of the season for outdoor sports, there was
baseball in the air from morning to night, in preparation for the
carnival of games mapped out for the schedule between the three
schools. What thrilling contests took place, and with what final
results, can be found in the second story of this series, bearing
the title, "The Boys of Columbia High on the Diamond; or, Winning
Out by Pluck."

When the Glorious Fourth came along, the river that flowed past
the three towns was the scene of a most remarkable gathering; for
the annual regatta between the boat clubs of the high schools had
been set down for observance. To enjoy the humor of the tub
races, and experience the thrills that accompanied the flight of
the rival four-oared and eight-oared shells over the scheduled
course, the reader must peruse the third volume, called: "The Boys
of Columbia High on the River; or, The Boat Race 'Plot That
Failed."

And now vacation having ended, and school being once more under
full swing, with the dropping of the highly-colored leaves from
the woods along the banks of the picturesque Harrapin, there was
heard little save football talk on the campus, and wherever the
sons of old Columbia High congregated.

A well-to-do widow, in memory of her boy, Wallace Todd, who had
died the preceding year while a student at the high school, had
offered a beautiful silver cup to the victor in the football
contests, the winning team to hold it for an entire season.

It was to be known as the Wallace Cup, and every day crowds stood
before the window of the silversmith's store in Columbia, admiring
its magnificent proportions.

Squads of boys even came by trolley from Bellport, and openly
boasted as to their intention to carry that same trophy home with
them after the struggles on the gridiron had been finished.

The group of lads watching the work of the scrub team consisted of
various types among the students and town fellows.

Presently, however, Tony Gilpin nudged another fellow and beckoned
him away. He knew full well that Asa Barnes, now a senior, and a
class ahead of him, had only bitter feelings for several in that
scrub team, and chief of all the captain, Bones Shadduck.

Lately both Tony and Asa had taken a notion that they would like
to join the Delta Pi fraternity. To their disgust, however, they
were blackballed, some among the members objecting to receiving
fellows with their known reputation for mischief and evil-doing.

In some way they conceived the idea that Bones Shadduck was
primarily responsible for their humiliation. They never accused
him of it, but nursed their fancied grievance, and planned to have
revenge in some fashion.

Tony was looking more than ordinarily ugly as he strolled away
with Asa Barnes.

The broad hint which one of his companions had advanced regarding
his rather poor chances of holding down his position as a Columbia
half-back against the aspirations of Ralph West, the boy from
Paulding, had fired his heart anew with a fierce desire to take
matters into his own hands, and remedy them.

"Well, what's your opinion, Asa?" demanded Tony, as they sauntered
along. "You said you'd be square with me. What d'ye think of that
dub's playing? Is he going to make it, and knock me off the
earth?"

Asa Barnes was nothing, if not a sneak. Throughout his entire
career at school he had been looked upon as a species of snake,
and had few friends. Even those who did go with him, on account of
his having unlimited spending money, always kept a cautious eye
out for treachery.

"Oh, you're going to get it where the chicken did--in the neck!"
he replied cheerfully, with a grin that told of secret pleasure,
for he liked to see others suffer.

"No kidding now, but tell me the truth for once. Is Ralph West the
wonder they make out? Can he play half-back better than I do? I'm
not from Missouri, but, all the same, I want to know; for it's
going to settle a question I've had in my mind a long time. Cut
in, now!" exclaimed Tony, wrathfully.

"He's all to the good," replied the other, grimly, "and when I say
that, disliking the fellow as I do, you can understand it means
something. I never saw a quicker half-back in my life; and when it
comes to making a tackle, the fellow doesn't really know what fear
is! If they put him on the regulars, there's going to be something
doing among those long-legged chaps from Clifford."

Tony growled like a bear with a sore head; he also cast a side
look at his companion, as though questioning his sincerity. Asa
liked to see anyone squirm, and often did and said things just for
that privilege. His companions had long ago declared that he was
cut out for a surgeon--or a butcher, like his father.

"Once for all, do you mean that?" hissed the enraged boy, laying a
quivering hand on his comrade's arm.

"I certainly do. He's got the Indian sign on you, Tony, for fair.
Mark my words, when I predict that, _unless something unusual
happens_ between now and next Saturday, when we play Clifford,
Ralph West is going to take your place at left half-back!"

The other fairly glared at him.

"Well, you're awful plain about it, Asa," he muttered.

"You told me to be, and I'm giving you my honest opinion. But, all
the same now, I don't think this disaster will happen," Asa added,
with a grin at the other.

"Oh, you don't, eh? What's going to prevent it?" demanded Tony.

"You are, unless I'm mighty much mistaken in your make-up," said
the other boy, promptly. "Remember what we agreed to do about that
Bones Shadduck, for getting us knocked down with that measly old
Delta Pi business? Well, there's a pair of 'em now!"

"Do you mean it. Will you stick with me if I try to knock West
out, so he won't be able to play football again for weeks? Are you
game, or do you mean to egg me on to the last ditch, and then
sidestep, leaving me to shoulder all the blame?"

Tony's face was eager, and the light in his eyes told of a fierce
desire to do something mean that would accomplish the desire of
his heart.

His companion laughed as though it might be a joke. Asa was so
used to others suspecting his honesty of purpose that he never
seemed to get offended when they doubted his word. Another boy
might have shown temper, but Asa never did this. He might grit his
teeth behind a fellow's back, and vow to get even for an insult;
but to his face he was either smiling or sneering, as the humor
seized him.

"Yes, I'll help you out. Remember, it isn't because I feel for
you," he said, quickly, as though he feared lest he should
actually be considered as possessing any consideration for a
comrade. "I've got my own little axe to grind, you see. The fellow
happens to be sweet on Helen Allen, and once on a time she used to
go with me to parties and the like. You understand, don't you,
Tony?"

"Sure. And there's nothing that burns so deep as that. Then it's
settled that we're going to lay for both Ralph and Bones at the
very first chance, with some fellows we can depend on, and do
them up? That's the programme, Asa?"

"I leave the particulars to you. Meanwhile I'll drum up a few
recruits to make the crowd. Just now I know of three bully fellows
who happen to have it in for either Ralph or Bones. You get as
many, and then there's going to be some fun doing," and Asa
laughed in the cold-blooded fashion that made so many dislike him.

"Well, when a fellow is bruised to beat the band, not to speak of
possibly a broken rib or two, he ain't going to play football in a
hurry," grunted Tony.

The other cast a quick look at his companion.

"You don't want to go too far, old chap. If he happened to be
seriously hurt, we might be called on to explain before Professor
Parke," he observed.

So talking, they sauntered along the road again, having paused to
exchange the significant remarks as to their intentions.

Hardly had they gone twenty feet away, than a head was cautiously
raised above an old log that lay just within the edge of the
woods, and a white face looked rather fearfully after the pair of
plotters.

CHAPTER II

ON THE ROAD TO TOWN

"Hello, Ralph, through practice here? Then walk home with me, and
take supper at the house, won't you? I've got some things I want
to talk over with you."

"Yes, we're done working, and I'll be glad to walk with you; but
if I'm to sit down at your table, you'll have to wait for me to
dress and clean myself. Will we have time?" And Ralph's face told
how much he appreciated a chance to spend an evening at the home
of Frank Allen, his friend and chum; for his boarding house room
did look a bit cheerless at night time.

"Plenty of time, old fellow. How did the practice go to-day?
Getting in trim, do you think?" asked Frank, who, as a senior, and
the captain and full-back of the regular football squad, was
supposed to have an intense interest in everything that took place
on the practice field day by day.

"Oh, pretty well, I think. I'm not wholly satisfied with myself,
but I believe I'm improving every day," replied the other,
modestly.

Frank looked sideways at his friend, and smiled. He had just been
talking with the coach, and heard what he had to say about the
scrub team. It was already understood between them that two of the
regulars must give way to better men who shone as stars on the
scrub. Columbia wanted her best sons in front, regardless of any
favoritism.

Coach Willoughby was back again, visiting at the home of Buster
Billings' folks. He said the "lure of the leather" was too much
for him, bringing back those dear old college days when he played
on the Princeton eleven, and carried the ball over Yale's line
for a hard-fought victory.

And so he had consented to take charge of the Columbia players,
and help them get in condition for the work ahead, when they were
to meet the brawny cohorts of Clifford, and those others from
Bellport.

Frank and Ralph had not gone more than fifty yards down the dusty
road leading from the recreation field to the town center, perhaps
a full mile away, when Ralph felt a sharp tug at his arm.

"Hello! what's this?" he said, looking down at a small girl, who
seemed so shy that her face was covered with blushes as she pulled
at his sleeve.

"Please, Mr. West, I'd like to say something to you," she said,
hesitatingly.

"Why, it's Madge Smalling, Mary's older sister!" exclaimed Ralph,
showing new interest.

In the Spring he had been instrumental in finding a little girl
who had hurt herself seriously, in the woods. At the time, Ralph
was on his way to the recreation field, where he was expected to
pitch a game against a rival school. Still, as he could not think
of leaving the child there to suffer, he had carried her to the
mill where her father was employed.

Since that time, he had been a welcome visitor at the home of the
Smallings, and, of course, was well known to this girl of nine,
who had been away at the time of Mary's adventure.

"Shall I walk on," asked Frank, with a wink, "because, you know,
there are times when two is company, three none."

"None of your joshing, now," said Ralph, and then, turning to the
child, he continued: "I hope nothing is wrong over at your house,
Madge?"

"Oh, no, sir. It wasn't that. I heard something about you, and I
wanted to tell you right away, 'cause I'm afraid of that bad boy.
Once he threw water on me, and laughed when I cried. Then he put a
nasty cold frog in my hand, and made me hold it ever so long."

Ralph looked at his friend. "Whoever can she mean, and what has
that got to do with me?" he said, wonderingly.

"The other boy called him Asa," remarked Madge, quickly.

"Oh, now I begin to see light. And was the second chap called
Tony?" Ralph asked.

"Oh, yes, that was it. I saw them coming along the road, and I
was afraid that he had another nasty frog. So I hid behind a log,"
the child went on, her face showing the deep interest she felt
in her own recital.

"Say, Frank, this grows exciting. Tony and Asa walking along with
their heads close together means trouble for someone, perhaps even
me. And this little girl, hiding behind a log, hears them
plotting. Now, what d'ye think of that for thrilling a fellow's
nerve? What did they say, Madge? Can you remember?" he asked,
looking down into the girl's face reassuringly, and stroking her
tangled hair.

"Oh, I didn't understand it all, but they hated you, and said they
must get some other bad boys to beat you, so you couldn't play
ball again. If you only saw his face when he said that! It was so
fierce I just shivered. I hope they don't do it to you, Mr. West.
It would be worse than a nasty, cold frog."

Again the two lads exchanged glances.

"Aha!" chuckled Frank, "the plot thickens. Tony feels the chill
of coming events, and wants to make sure that you will never
displace him on the regular team. I'm not so much surprised,
though. It wouldn't be the first time a candidate has been marked
for assault in the hope of putting him out of the running. An
ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure. And since we
know now what is in the wind, we must be doubly on our guard. I
suspected that some of them, Lef Seller and his crowd, perhaps,
might have it in for me, but it seems that you are the goat,
Ralph."

"Well, I'm ever so much obliged to Madge here for telling me. And
next time I come out to her house I'm going to fetch along a box
of candy to pay the debt," said Ralph, kindly.

"You always do that, anyway," declared the child, promptly, at
which Frank burst into another laugh.

"Oh, all your secrets will come out, one by one, old fellow. I
think I'll have to post my sister Helen on your double dealing.
She might be jealous of Mary and Madge," he declared.

"Don't you worry. Helen has walked out there with me more than
once. They're all very fond of your sister, Frank," declared
Ralph, blushing a little.

"Well, you don't blame them, do you?" asked the brother,
promptly; which caused his friend to bend down to shake hands and
bid the little maid good-by.

As the two boys tramped along toward Frank's home, they naturally
talked again of the unpleasant news that had been brought to their
attention in so singular a way.

"I wish I knew just what to do about it," said Frank, frowning
with displeasure, "It's certainly a most unsportsmanlike spirit to
show, knocking your school colors, because you can't play. I call
that a rule-or-ruin policy. Do you suppose, if we told the boys,
it would put a stop to the nasty game?"

"We have no proof, for they wouldn't be apt to take a child's word
for much. So I'm afraid it wouldn't be just the wisest thing to
tell it broadcast," answered the serious Ralph.

"Anyhow, I mean to take a few of my special friends into council,
and warn them what we're up against. From this time on you need a
guardian squad, Ralph," the other went on.

"Why me more than any other fellow?" asked Ralph.

"I'll tell you, though I meant to keep it until to-night. Coach
Willoughby finally made up his mind, though nobody knows it but
myself. He means to drop two fellows off the team to-morrow--Tony
Gilpin and George Andersen; the former because he fails to come up
to the scratch, and George on account of that old injury to his
leg, which is cropping up again. He was our star player last year,
and we are going to miss him a heap."

"Yes, I supposed poor George would have to go, but expected Tony
would hold on," remarked Ralph, quietly.

"And the coach has decided that _you_ are to take the place
of Tony as left half-back. I'm awful glad of it! I purposely kept
my hands off, because I wanted merit and not favoritism to bring
the change about. Shake on it, Ralph!"

"And I'm glad, too," remarked the other, his voice quivering a
little with his emotion; "not that I like to supplant any other
fellow, but I believe it's only right that every one of Columbia's
sons should cherish an earnest desire to make the best of what
there is in him. I only hope the coach isn't making a serious
mistake, that's all."

"I know he isn't, and the other fellows will say so, too, when
they hear. Tony isn't a popular player at all, and when there is
dissension in a baseball nine or a football eleven, it's going to
make trouble. 'Beware the worm i' the bud,' you know. But these
cowards may find that they're up against a tougher proposition
than they suspect, before they're done with it."

Frank was even more indignant at the possibility of peril
overhanging the head of his chum, than if it had threatened
himself. That is ever the way with generous souls.

"Three days more, and then comes Clifford after our scalp,"
remarked Ralph, desirous of dropping the unpleasant subject for
the time being.

"Yes, and although Bellport beat them last Saturday 17 to 4, we
mustn't imagine Clifford is going to be an easy mark for us.
Perhaps they may fancy our style of play, and rub it all over us.
Nobody can say until we've met, and fought it out," was Frank's
sagacious remark.

"I agree with you on that score," declared his companion:
"Clifford was unfortunate in many ways. She lost three of her best
men through accidents, while Bellport did not. Then some people
hint that her secret signals were given away, because the Bellport
players seemed to be ready to meet every sudden move Clifford
made."

"Yes, I heard that, too, and while I hate to believe any fellow
could be so low as to betray his school to the enemy, it's been
done before. We must be doubly on our guard against such a thing.
I've been thinking up a little scheme that would upset anything
like that. But we haven't started with signals yet, keeping that
until to-morrow, when the real team as selected will come
together."

"I can guess what you've got in mind, Frank, but I'm not asking
questions. Only I do hope nothing prevents me from going into
that game. Somehow, all my life I've just longed to be a football
player. There's something about the game that seems to just stir
me up, as even baseball couldn't. And yet nobody would call me a
scrapper either," remarked Ralph.

"Oh, it isn't that always. Lots of good football players are
quiet, modest fellows, ready to mind their own business, if let
alone. I guess it must be something in a fellow's nature that
makes him long to buck up against difficulties, and down them. And
seeing that you've always been so quiet and unassuming a fellow, I
hardly know how to apply that to you, either. It's just born in a
man, that's what," and Frank clapped his hand affectionately on
his chum's shoulder.

Others were streaming along the road at the same time, homeward
bound.

"Look out, here comes a vehicle back of us," said Ralph presently,
when they were about half-way to Columbia Center.

They stepped to the side of the road, to allow the carriage to
pass.

"Why, it's Minnie Cuthbert and a friend!" said Ralph, suddenly.

At that Frank turned hastily, the color flying to his face like
magic; for that same name always had a wonderful influence over
him, since he and Minnie had long been the warmest of friends.

The pretty girl who held the reins urged her horse on. There was a
look in her face that Frank had never seen there before. She
stared straight at him, as he took off his cap and bowed, but not
by the slightest sign did she give any evidence of being aware
that such a person as Frank Allen existed.

It was the cut direct!

Ralph uttered an exclamation of amazement. Quickly he glanced at
his chum, to see that Frank had gone deadly white, and his eyes
glittered with sudden spasm of pain that seized upon him.

He drew a long breath, and tried to get a grip on himself.

"Say, that hurt some, I tell you, Ralph. I never expected to be
cut by Minnie Cuthbert, that's sure," he said, between his set
teeth.

Ralph was sorely puzzled. He remembered that Minnie really owed
her life to the wonderful presence of mind of Frank, when a
runaway horse had threatened to bring disaster down upon her.

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