Interference and Other Football Stories Part 6

"Listen, kid!" and Carl looked cautiously toward the door, "we've been slowed up due to injuries and illness this year in addition to poor material. But right now my eleven's at its peak for the first time and we're set to give Grinnell a whale of a battle tomorrow. So--if your team wins, your coach will be deserving of something!"

A rap sounded on the door.

"There he is now!"

Carl strode over and flung the door open.

"Edward, how are you?"

"Fine, Carver. And you?"

"Okay!... I've asked my kid brother to sit in."

"Oh! ... h.e.l.lo, Mack!"

"h.e.l.lo, Coach."

"Sit down, Edward."

"Thanks."

"I haven't said anything to Mack about this but maybe I can throw a little light on this stolen play business."

"Yes?"

"On Wednesday night, this week, I received a mysterious note, signed by a Mister "X" who proposed to sell me your signals and plays. I was advised to leave one hundred dollars under a log in a vacant field..."

Coach Edward leaned forward, highly interested. Mack whistled, impulsively.

"What did you do?"

"I left the hundred," related Coach Carver, "but I marked the bills.

The next morning I found the bills gone and, in their place, this sealed envelope which, I imagine, contains the stolen plays and signals."

"You haven't opened it?"

You'll have to take my word for it. The seal is unbroken. Of course--this could be a second envelope."

"Hardly likely," said Coach Edward, greatly fussed. "May I open it?"

"I should expect you to," said Carl. "Maybe we've both been fooled.

It may be nothing but a wad of paper."

"No--it's the plays all right ... and--the signals!" gasped Coach Edward. "This is almost incredible ... and certainly brazen! I don't suppose the guilty person has been traced?"

"No--although the police in Pomeroy as well as the merchants have been quietly tipped off as to the marked bills--a tiny "X" in the right hand upper corner. You see, the idea is to out-X Mister X." Carl was smiling.

"But he's probably left the town," surmised Coach Edward.

"Yes--and he's more probably returned to Grinnell," predicted Carl.

"You may find some of the marked five dollar bills in your town."

"Then you figure the thief a resident of Grinnell?"

"Well, I most certainly don't wish to claim him for Pomeroy! We've already been given the name of being behind this ... and my own brother is under the shadow of suspicion."

"This I regret very much," declared Coach Edward. "I said so at the time. Mack and I have had our differences; I jumped a bit too hastily at conclusions myself and the result is this unfortunate notoriety.

I'm profoundly sorry. I would like to be able to make amends."

"Then may I suggest that you begin by reinstating my brother at once.

You have the evidence now to prove he was not implicated and I demand that you do it!"

"You won't have to demand," promised Coach Edward, "I was opposed to this action in the first place and it will please me to present these facts to the dumb detectives on the case who would have half the college indicted for the theft if I'd listen to them!"

"Whether you use my brother in the game or not is no affair of mine,"

continued Coach Carver. "But it _is_ my affair when his name and mine is attacked. As for tomorrow--good luck but not too much of it!"

"I might say the same to you!" said Coach Edward, extending his hand.

The two coaches shook hands. Carl's hand was cool and firm; but his rival's palm was hot and trembly.

Morning papers, the day of the game, carried the news of Mack Carver's reinstatement and a letter of public apology from Coach Edward. No explanation was offered, as to the reasons behind Mack's return to the Varsity.

"I'll bet this action was taken simply to reduce the feeling between the two colleges," ventured a Grinnell supporter. "There have been enough ugly reports surrounding this game and the authorities probably got together, figuring they'd quiet a lot of wild rumors and unfounded stories. But you can't tell me--where there was so much smoke--that there isn't plenty of fire!"

And this opinion seemed to be shared by most of the thousands who jammed the stadium for the game. It was a clear, cold day with a dry, hard field destined to provide a fair test of the strength of both elevens.

In the locker room, as Grinnell players dressed for the game, Mack Carver was approached by team members who expressed their confidence in him. Mack, while he tried not to show it, was highly nervous and ill at ease. There was now every reason to believe that he would see service in the game since Dave's knee had not responded to treatment and since Coach Edward would probably feel that his playing at least part of the contest would prove to Pomeroy that no grudge or suspicion remained.

"If I'm put in I've got to play a bang-up game," Mack told himself, "or I'll be open to criticism again. I can't afford to make any slips."

Dave Morgan, hobbling in on crutches, had encouraging words to say.

"You're in a tough spot, I know," he sympathized. "But just forget you're related to Coach Carver and go out there to play a game of football. If you tear in there the way you did when you got started against me--you won't have to worry."

"Thanks," said Mack, gratefully. "You're a peach!"

"Don't kid yourself," grinned Dave. "I didn't throw this knee out to give you your chance!"

Mack's eyes clouded. "No, Dave--you've done more than that. You've shown me what real spirit was. I've been so wound up in myself that I couldn't feel it before. I feel it now, though ... and I only hope I can play good enough so your loss won't be felt too badly."

Dave patted him on the back. "I'll be pulling for you, boy!"

A buzz of excitement went through the crowded stands as the Pomeroy and Grinnell elevens lined up for kick-off and the player numbered "26" in Grinnell's backfield was pointed out to be Mack Carver. Pomeroy was kicking to Grinnell.

"The highly exploited brother act is about to be put on!" cried a fan.

"We'll soon see what a brother player can do against a brother coach.