“The papers speak pretty well of her backs,” observed Cal. “She has one fellow, I forget his name--”
“That’s it, Puckhaber! Some name, I’ll say! He’s good, isn’t he?”
“He’s all right, but he wasn’t anything remarkable last fall. We stopped him as well as we stopped any of her backs. She’s got a good man in Timmons, though, her left end. He’ll bear watching, fellows. Well, it’s nine-thirty, Bob. Time to turn in. This may be your last night in the old school, son: better make the most of it!”
Alton played the enemy at Hillsport this year, a small town some twelve miles to the south. The distance, however, didn’t measure up to the time it took for the journey, for team and supporters had to take the train to Darlington, nine miles away, and then cross to Hillsport by trolley, consuming all of an hour and ten minutes on the way. Saturday was what Martin called a “mushy” day. The sun came and went from beyond a haze of gray clouds and a light, damp breeze blew inland from the sea. It was too warm for an ideal football day, but those who were to look on found no fault with it. Most of the School accompanied the players and, since Manager Ross when providing for the team’s transportation had failed to make any arrangement for the followers, a lamentable lack of conveyances developed at Darlington. There was a special car waiting for the players, but the single regular car which was due to make the trip to Hillsport ten minutes later could not possibly be made to hold more than eighty of the nearly three hundred fellows who fought for places. A hurry call was telephoned to Hillsport for extra cars, but before they came several scores of good-natured but impatient youths had set forth on foot to cover the last two-and-a-half-mile leg of the journey. Fortunately for these, the game was not started until nearly fifteen minutes after the advertised time and the last flushed and perspiring Altonian had dragged himself to a seat before the Green kicked off to the Gray-and-Gold.
There is no good reason for devoting much space to the contest, for, although the final score was not as one-sided as early evidences promised, it was plainly to be seen from the first moment that the visiting horde was certain of victory. Save that McLeod was in Macon’s place at right end for Alton, the line-up was quite as expected. McNatt was at full-back and Mawson at left half. Gil Tarver held the helm. There were no substitutes introduced by Coach Cade until the third inning was well along. Then Jack Macon, who had been suffering from a mild attack of tonsillitis, went back to his position, and Willard and Moncks were sent in to replace Mawson and Cochran. Still later, Hutchins ousted Gil Tarver and Cravath replaced Nichols at center. Both teams found the weather uncomfortable and toward the last the play slowed up until it fairly dragged.