Ralph Barbour.

Right Tackle Todd


Stereotyped, said Martin Gray. Thats the word! He spoke triumphantly, as one will when a moments search for the proper term has been rewarded. Stereotyped, Clem!

Oh, I dont know, replied his room-mate, only mildly interested in Marts subject. Of course they do look pretty much alike

It isnt only their looks, though. But, come to think of it, thats another proof of my er contention. Hang it, Clem, if they werent all alike as so many er beans

Dont you mean peas? asked Clement Harland, grinning.

Beans, continued Mart emphatically. They wouldnt all wear the same things, would they?

Dont see that, Mart. After all, a chaps simply got to follow the jolly old style, eh?

Not if he has any er individuality! No, sir! I saw fifty at least of the new class arrive yesterday, and except that sometimes one was shorter or taller or fatter than the others, you could have sworn they were all from the same town. Yes, sir, and the same street! Same clothes, same hats, same shoes, same

Well, after all, why not? Besides, after theyve been here awhile they develop different as youd say er characteristics. What if the kids do look alike when they first come?

But you dont get the er the idea at all! protested Martin. What Im trying to get at

Is that Alton Academy attracts a certain type of fellow and doesnt get enough freaks to suit you.

Freaks be blowed! I dont want freaks, I want new blood, something different now and then. You know as well as I do that new blood is what

Youve got the melting pot idea, eh?

Yes, I guess so. Why not? Look at the other schools; some of em, anyway: Dexter, Dover


I said some of em. Take Dexter now.

I refuse.

Look at the er variety of fellows that go there. Whats the result?

Why, the result is that they manage to beat Dover pretty often at football, but I always thought that coach of theirs had a good deal to do with that!

Shucks, Im not talking about athletics, although thats a pretty good test, too. What I mean is that its the school that draws its enrollment from all over the country and from all er classes that does the biggest things; and thats the most use, too.

I dont believe it, answered Mart. Its the school itself, its policy, its traditions that count. You might have every state in the Union

Oh, that, of course, but I say that a student body composed of a lot of totally different types

All right, but how are you going to get them?

Reach out for em! How do other schools get em?

Search me, old son! Maybe they advertise in the papers; Dakotas, New Mexico, Florida, Hawaii

Sure! Why not! This schools in danger of er dry-rot, Clem! Four hundred or so fellows all alike, speaking the same language

I should hope so!

Thinking the same thoughts, having the same views on every subject.

Gosh, cant you see that you and I dont get as much out of it as if we could rub up against something different now and then? Wouldnt it be refreshing to find a fellow who didnt think just as we think about everything, who didnt wear exactly the same kind of clothes, who didnt think the sun rose and set in New England?

But the sun does rise and set in New England, objected Clem. Ive seen it.

Oh, shut up! You know what I mean. Wouldnt it?

Clem considered a moment. Then he shook his head doubtfully. You should have gone to Kenly Hall, Mart, he answered. They have all kinds there, the whole fifty-seven varieties.

Yes, and theyre better off for it. Of course its the proper thing for us to make fun of Kenly, but you know mighty well that its every bit as good a school as Alton; maybe better in some ways. But Kenly isnt much different from us. They get about the same lot year after year, just as we do. One years freshman class looks just like last years. Maybe they do get an occasional outsider. Quite a few middle-west chaps go there. But mostly they draw them from right around this part of the country, as we do. Gee, Id certainly like to see, just for once, a fellow turn up here who didnt look as if hed been cast in the same mold with all the others!

Youre getting all worked up about nothing, old son, said Clem soothingly. You mustnt do it. It always upsets you so you cant eat your meals, and its only half an hour to supper.

If you werent so blamed stubborn

Shut up a minute! Hello! Come in!

The door of Number 15 opened slowly until the more dimly lighted corridor was revealed through a narrow aperture and a voice said: Excuse me, please, but is this where the fellow that hires the football players lives?

From where Martin sat the owner of the voice was hidden, and so he could not account for the radiant grin that enveloped his room-mates countenance for an instant.

I didnt get it, said Clem, politely apologetic. Wont you come in? His face was sober again, unnaturally sober in the judgment of Martin Gray.

Well, said the unseen speaker doubtfully. Then the door again began its cautious passage across the old brown carpet, and Mart understood Clems grin.

The youth who now stood revealed to Marts astounded gaze was little short of six feet tall, it seemed. In age he might have been anywhere from sixteen to twenty, with eighteen as a likely compromise. He was attired neatly but, it appeared, uncomfortably in a suit of dark gray which fitted him too loosely across the shoulders and too abruptly at the ankles, its deficiency at the latter point exposing to Marts fascinated eyes a pair of wrinkled woolen socks of sky-blue. The low shoes were not extraordinary, but there was something deliciously quaint about the collar, with its widely parted corners, and the pale blue satin tie that failed to hide the brass collar-stud. Even the hat, a black Alpine shape, struck a note of originality, possibly because it was a full size too small and was poised so precariously atop a thickish mass of tumbled hair that seemed not yet to have decided just what shade of brown to assume. Clem coughed delicately and asked: You were looking for some one?

Guess Ive got the wrong place, said the stranger, his first embarrassment increasing at the discovery of Mart beyond the doors edge. The fellow Im looking for is the one who hires well, takes on the football players. Guess hes the manager, aint he?

Possibly, answered Clem, turning to Mart with an inquiring glance. What do you think?

Martin took his cue promptly. Or, maybe the coach, he suggested. You dont know his name?

The stranger shook his head. He held firmly to the outer knob of the door, resting his shoulders against the edge of it as he frowned in an effort of memory. I heard it, he replied, but I forget what it was. He said I was to see him between five and six about me getting on the football team and I thought he said he lived in Number 15 in Lykes Hall, but

Well, you see, this isnt

But Clem interrupted Mart swiftly. Sit down, wont you? he asked, smiling hospitably. I dare say we can thresh out the mystery. And you might shove that door too, if you dont mind. Thanks.

The stranger closed the door as slowly as he had opened it, removed his hat and advanced gingerly to the chair that Clems foot had deftly thrust toward him. He gave them the impression of having attained his growth so suddenly as to be a little uncertain about managing it. He lowered himself almost cautiously into the chair, placing two rather large feet closely together and holding his hat firmly by its creased crown with both hands, hands generously proportioned, darkly tanned and extremely clean. He looked about the room and then back to Clem, while a slow smile radiated the long, somewhat plain face.

You fellows got it right nice here, he ventured.

Like it? asked Clem in a more friendly tone. The strangers smile had transformed him on the instant from a queer, almost uncouth figure to something quite human and likable. Yes, it isnt a bad room. Where do you hang out? By the way, you didnt mention your name, did you?

Todds my name. My rooms over in Haylow; Number 33. A fellow named Judson and I have it together. It aint like this, though. Not so big, for one thing, and then the ceiling comes down, over there like, and I keep hitting my head on it.

Mart laughed. They didnt build you for one of those third floor rooms, Todd.

The slow smile came again and the gray eyes twinkled, and the visitor relaxed a little in the straight chair. Gosh, I started to grow last year and it looks like I cant stop. I didnt use to be such an ungainly cuss.

I wouldnt let that bother me, returned Mart. Youll fill out pretty soon, I dare say. How tall are you?

Todd shook his head. I aint measured lately, he acknowledged a trifle sheepishly. Been scared to. Pop says if I dont stop pretty soon it wont be safe for me to go out in the woods lessn some one might mistake me for a tree and put an ax to me!

Wheres your home? asked Clem, with a side glance at his room-mate.

Four Lakes, Maine. At least, we dont live right in the village, but thats our postoffice address. We live about three miles north, up the Ludic road. You ever been around there?

It seemed that they hadnt, but once started Todd was not averse to supplying personal information. Clem fancied that Judson, whoever he might be, had not proved a sympathetic listener and that Todd was heartily glad to find some one to talk to. His father had a store, it seemed, and was also interested in timber lands and numerous other interests. There was a large family of children of which the present representative was the senior member. He had been going to school at Four Lakes until last Spring.

I was set on going to college, you see, and I thought Id learned enough, but I went down to Lewiston and talked with a fellow down there and he said Id better go to a preparatory school for a couple of years first. I asked where and he said this place. So I came down here. Seems like he might have said some place nearer home, but I guess it dont matter. This looks like a right nice school. I guess you fellows are seniors, arent you?

Juniors, corrected Clem. I suppose youre one of us, Todd.

I guess so. I aint heard for sure yet. They started me off as a junior, though.

Oh, youll make it, declared Mart. So youre going to play football, eh?

Oh, I dont know. Todd smiled embarrassedly. I aint ever yet, but this fellow I was looking for stopped me this morning and asked if I was going to and I said no, and then he asked didnt I want to and I said I didnt know if I did or not, and he said for me to come and see him between five and six oclock and wed talk about it. He said what his name was, but I forget. I think he said he managed the players.

He didnt, inquired Clem very innocently, mention what position he thought youd fill best on the team?

Todds gray eyes twinkled again. No, he didnt, but I guess maybe one of the posts at the end of the fields got broken and hes looking for a new one.

I think it must have been Dolf Chapin you saw, said Mart, smiling at Clems slight discomfiture. Hes

Thats the name, declared Todd with relief. Wheres his room, please?

Hes in 15 Lykes.

Well, isnt this Then Todds countenance proclaimed understanding and he chuckled. Gosh, I went right by it, didnt I? I was over at that building where they have the library

Memorial, said Mart.

And meant to stop at the first building after I came off that path that comes from there. Instead of that I got right back in my own house, didnt I? I aint got this place learned very well yet. Well, Im much obliged to you. Maybe Ill see you again. My name, like I told you, is Todd, Jim Todd. He arose and offered a big hand to Clem and then to Mart.

Glad to have met you, Todd, responded Clem, spreading his fingers experimentally after the crushing grip they had sustained. My names Harland, and this is Gray. Drop in again some time, wont you? Id like mighty well to hear how you get along with football.

Well, I aint so sure Ill play it, answered Todd from the doorway, frowning a little. I guess playing games sort of interferes with a fellows school work, and what Ive seen of the courses theyve got me down for makes me think Ill have to do some tall studying. Im glad to have met you, and maybe I might come in and see you again some time.

Do that, said Clem earnestly.

Then the door closed slowly but decidedly and Clem and Mart dropped back into their chairs. After a moment Clem said: Looks to me like your prayer was answered, Mart.

Well, hes only one, but hes a hopeful sign.

Clem chuckled softly. You and Todd ought to get along pretty well together, he continued. You wanted something different, and there you have it. At least, he doesnt wear clothes like the rest of us; hes no slave to Fashion, old son. Maybe he wont mind telling you where he buys his togs, eh?

Some way, answered Mart, it doesnt seem quite fair to make fun of him. There was something awfully decent about the chap, in spite of his clothes and his er queer appearance.

Thats true, and I wasnt really making fun. Only Clem interrupted himself with a laugh. Say, isnt it just like Chapin to try to round that fellow up for the football squad? Honest, Mart, if a one-legged fellow showed up here and Dolf saw him he wouldnt be happy until he had him out on the field!

At that, replied Mart, as he arose to prepare for supper, Jim Todd might be a blamed sight better player than some of those cripples who lost the game last year for us! I noticed that your delicate sarcasm was trumped very neatly by our recent guest, old timer!

Yes, Clem acknowledged, thats so. I fancy our friend James isnt such a fool as his hat makes him out!


The occupants of Number 15 Haylow didnt see anything more of Jim Todd for a while. In fact, he had nearly gone from their memories when Clem collided with him at the entrance to the dormitory one day in late October. Jim only said Hello and would have gone by, but something prompted Clem to renew the acquaintance.

Well, how do you like things now that youve been with us awhile, Todd? he asked.

Fine, thanks. Im getting on real well.

Good! By the way, you never paid that next call, you know. Gray and I have been wondering about you. That was more flattering than truthful perhaps. Still playing football, or did you decide not to go in for the manly pastime?

Jim smiled. Well, Im still on the squad, he said, but I dont do very well at that game. Guess Ill be quitting this week. Its pretty hard, and it takes a good deal of a fellows time, too.

Well, if theyve kept you all this time youll probably last the season out, responded Clem, not a little surprised.

But Jim Todd shook his head. I guess Ill be getting through pretty soon, he said firmly.

Well, drop in and see us again, anyway. Clem hurried on to a recitation, wondering most of the way to Academy Hall why he had renewed the invitation. Nothing came of it for nearly a fortnight, however. Then, late one afternoon, Mr. James Todd knocked and entered. Six weeks had somewhat altered his appearance, and he looked far less different. He was still the same tall, loose-jointed chap, but he wore a gray sweater and a pair of old blue trousers and no hat, and so much of his oddity was missing. He was, too, more at ease on this occasion, and settled his long length back in the Morris chair that Clem indicated without his former hesitation. Presently, in the course of conversation, Mart observed:

Ive been looking for you on the football team, Todd, but I missed you. Still, its hard to recognize your friends under those leather domes you fellows wear. You didnt get into the Mount Millard game, did you?

I aint been in any of them, answered Jim. I aint much of a football player.

Oh, well, youve got two chances yet, replied Mart cheeringly. Maybe Cade is keeping you back for the Kenly Hall game.

I quit last week, said Jim simply.

Quit? You mean er is that so? floundered Mart. Well, maybe next year

It was pretty hard work, added Jim Todd. Pretty wearing. I got tired of it finally. Mr. Cade and me had a sort of argument about it, but I told him I wouldnt ever make a football man and that I had sort of got behind with my studies and he let me go finally. I like him. He got sort of mad with me, but I guess hes over it by now.

Clem and Mart exchanged glances that indicated puzzlement. You mean, asked Clem at last, that you resigned? You werent fired off?

No, I just quit, answered Jim untroubledly. You see, its like this, Harland. Most of the fellows in the squad had played football before. Some of them have been at it two or three years, likely. It was new to me. Of course Id seen fellows playing it, you know; they had a sort of a team at the school I went to back home; but it never interested me much and I never thought Id care to try it. Well, I was pretty green when I started off and I had a lot to learn. Guess I didnt learn very well, either. Seems like I was pretty stupid about it. Mr. Cade said I didnt put my mind on it, but I dont think that was so. Guess the trouble was I didnt get real interested in it. He told me that if I worked hard this Fall Id likely get to play next year. He tried to make an end of me, but I never got good enough to play in any of the games. I just sat on that bench out there at the field and looked on. They keep you on the field two hours every afternoon; sometimes longer than that; and I could see I was just wasting my time. I kept saying so to Dolf Chapin, but he said I wasnt, that I was learning and that it was my duty to stick it out. So I did till last week. Then I decided Id better quit. So I quit.

I see, said Mart dryly. And Johnny Cade? I suppose he had something to say, Todd.

Yes, he said a whole lot, answered Jim soberly. Looked once like Id have to paste him in the jaw, the way he was talking, but I didnt because I knew he didnt mean all he said. He was sort of upset, I guess.

Sounds to me as if you were a more valuable man than you realized, said Clem.

No, I guess I wasnt very valuable, really. I guess these football coaches like to have their own way pretty well.

Well, said Mart, laughing, Ill bet youve earned the distinction of being one of the few fellows that ever resigned from the squad! No wonder Cade was grumpy! Hes not used to that!

There followed another lapse in the acquaintanceship. Clem and Mart caught glimpses of Jim Todd in class room and dining hall; infrequently passed him on the campus; sometimes exchanged greetings by word or sign. The Kenly Hall game came and went, bringing the football season to a disappointingly inconclusive end. Beaten the year before, Alton tried desperately to wreak vengeance, but, although her players and her game were infinitely superior to those of the preceding season, Kenly Hall, too, showed improvement, and at the final whistle the score stood just where it had stood at the end of the first half, at 7 to 7. Each team had scored one touchdown and followed it with a clean goal. Each team, too, had narrowly failed of a second score, Kenly Hall when a forward-pass over the goal-line had been tipped but not caught and Alton when a fourth down on the enemys four-yard line had gained but one foot of the necessary two. Both touchdowns had resulted from long runs, a Kenly Hall quarter-back bringing glory to the Cherry-and-Black by a thirty-four-yard dash around the opponents left and Cricket Menge, left half on the Gray-and-Gold team, evening things up a few minutes later by wrapping himself about a lateral pass and dodging and twirling his way over eleven white lines to a score.

After the first disappointment, Alton Academy, viewing the result more calmly and fairly, came to the conclusion that her gridiron warriors had gained more glory than had been thus far accorded them. Both Kenly Hall coach and captain had stated publicly that the team which had met Alton was the best eleven that had represented the Cherry-and-Black in six years, and if that was so and certainly Alton Academy had no reason to doubt it! then Captain Grants team General Grants Army the football song called it had secured a virtual victory in spite of the score. Careful analysis of the contest added strength to that verdict, for the records showed that Alton had outrushed her opponent by thirty-two yards, gained two more first downs than her ancient enemy had secured and had had slightly the better of the kicking argument. So on Monday night there was a delayed, but intensely enthusiastic, mass meeting in the auditorium and honor was done to the heroes. Everybody spoke who had any right to, and a few who hadnt, and there was much singing and a great deal of cheering. Clem and Mart, neither of them football enthusiasts, attended the celebration, as in duty bound, and ended by cheering quite as loudly as any. The testimonial had one result that the school in general never learned of. It decided a wavering Athletic Committee in favor of renewing Coach Johnny Cades contract, which terminated that Fall, for another two seasons. Prior to seven-thirty that Monday evening his last two years record of one defeat and one tie, even when balanced against previous success, had looked more than black to the Committee. At nine oclock it was viewing that record more leniently. And on Wednesday Coach Cade departed with a new contract in his trunk.

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