Somerville High School - Radiator Yearbook (Somerville, MA)

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IO SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR waited. His breath was coming in gasps, and his eyes were nailed on the ball. here was only one minute to play, when on a fake punt forma- tion, the Ranual quarterback tried a forward pass. His aim was good, and the ball shot straight towards the end, who waited with out- stretched arms. Bill made a wonderful leap in the air. and some- how caught the ball, tucked it under his arm, and sped for the goal line. Ear ahead the goal post seemed to dance before his eyes. He heard the heavy thud of the pursuing halfbacks, and now, as he flashed across another whitewashed line, he heard their sobbing breath and could almost feel it on his neck. Only fifteen yards more? But his knees began to weaken. He gasped and staggered on. Nearer and nearer came his two pursuers, and. as he crossed the ten-yard line, lie felt a hand clutch- ing at his back, and then the two mighty backs hurled themselves on him, and he fell across the goal line with the men on top of him. Time was up, and Bill had made his “S.” “ Ibe Sucker B ? jfranl; C. iDavus, '13 HE rhythmic cheering from the stands is suddenly swallowed up by a great spontaneous roar that comes from the throats of Red and Blue supporters alike. For from out of tlie midst of the struggling mass in the centre of the field the oval pigskin erratically bounds, having escaped the clutches of the blue- halfback who had carried it. A blue end flings himself at it. but the ball successfully evades the grasping arms. Immediately a red-jerseved youth pounces upon it. cat-like, and in the same motion comes to his feet, the ball held securely in the crook of his arm. ( n the instant he is off. a clear field in front, speeding straight for the goal-line, fifty yards away. “Better come over to the clubhouse and have that knee patched up, hadn't you, Bob? solici- tously inquired the cver-cautious trainer, Mike Donovan. “And then a siiowcr and a rub wouldn't harm you any, you know. Captain Bob Storer, out of the game with a wrenched knee after crossing the goal-line for the first score of the afternoon, shook his head impa- tiently. The veteran trainer stood for a moment, think- ing. Possessed of a vigorous constitution, al- though rather slight physically, there were few men of his weight or near it who dared stand toe to toe with him in a fair fight. Well. he said, that knee should be attended to at once. I'll go over myself after some fresh bandages.” He started off toward the clubhouse just as the whistle blew on the field for the resumption oE hostilities. In ten minutes, now, the game would be over, and it seemed as though the Reds were going to repeat their hard-won victory of the year oefore, for Captain Storer's recovery of a fumble and sensational run for touchdown, with the goal which followed, looked fully large enough to hold safe the battered and discouraged gladiators in blue. The clubhouse was a long, low building off at the northern end of the stadium. Donovan, with his pass key. let himself in at a side door. The building was still now, very still, for he was the only one in it. Everyone else, substitutes, rub- bers, even the watchman, was down on the side- lines. Trainer Mike's rubber-soled shoes made no sound on the hardwood fioor as he crossed the narrow hall to the storeroom. He quickly found the roll of elastic bandage for which he had come, and had turned to pass out again when a sound from the locker-room below brought him to a halt. ()n the cement fiooring underneath, heavy foot- steps sounded, their echoes reverberating hol- lowly through the empty building. They passed dirccth beneath him, turned, and then started up the stairs over at the left. Puzzled, Trainer Mike hesitated, then took a couple of steps forward, and standing in the shadow of the wall at the right of the stairs, waited for the unknown to appear. The footsteps continued to the top of the stairs, and then suddenly stopped. Trainer Mike swore softly, lie had left the door at the side on which

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SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR 9 fllbaFung THts 'Xcttcr 36 ? 3obn jf. Barkis, ’12 ILL FLEET was a gritty lad. and for three years had worked hard to make the football team and thereby win his “S.” This was his iast year in school, so he plugged hard all the season to make a backficld position, but he was handicapped by his light weight: also there was a veteran backficld from last year’s team. His heart and soul were set on making his S.” so lie played with the scrub team, and awaited his chance to go into a game and make good. Now there remained but the Thanksgiving Day game, so he fought hard in scrimmage during the last days of practice, and when it was finished lie waited with feverish impatience for to-morrow to come. Thanksgiving morning dawned clear, but windy and cold. The crowd began to fill the stands and the sidelines long before the game was scheduled to commence. The Summerval rooters occupied the cast and centre section, and their part of the stands looked like a great swaying slope of red and blue. The rival rooters for Ranual occupied the west stands, and they had turned out in great numbers to cheer their team on to victory. Both teams had been drilled and coached for the last battle of the season, and both were keen and eager for the fray. Bill Fleet listened with in- tense interest -to the last words of the coach to the team, and then he trotted out with the squad on the field, headed by their captain. The Sum- merval stands to Bill looked like a waving mass of red and blue; and the deep rumble and roar of the school veil sent the blood jumping through his veins, then the Ranual team trotted on the field, and they were given a reception by their fol- lowers worthy of gladiators. Bill was crouched on the sidelines covered with a blanket, watching the two teams go through a brisk signal practice. He watched the two rival captains meet, and then they tossed a coin for their choice of the kickoff. The Summerval captain won the toss, and chose to play against the wind and to receive the kick. Dane, the Ranual fullback, scraped a mound of dirt with his shoe, arranged the ball with great care and precision, and then stepped back. The game was on. It was a terrific kick, and Bill breathlessly saw Thorne, the fullback, catch it almost under the goal post. Bill tightened his fist and rose to his knee as he saw Thorne dodge the first tackle, and then a second dove and brought Thorne to one knee: and Bill almost shouted as he saw Thorne still fight on. and as he was thrown to the ground by the Ranual men Bill bit his lip and dug his hands into the ground. The Ranual team proved stronger than ex- pected. and the first half ended with no score. Between the halves Bill listened in grim silence to the coach, who flayed them alive and besought them to go back in the second half to fight for their lives. The referee put his head in through the door, and yelled: 'lime’s up.” Then the Summerval team trotted back to the field, with white faces and savage eyes, determined to score or die. They kicked off to Ranual. who rushed the ball back to their thirty-yard line. Here the Sum- merval team, fighting like demons, held Ranual for downs, and took the ball away from them. Bill Fleet's heart was jumping like a trip ham- mer as he saw the Summerval backs smash through the Ranual team for four- and five-yard gains, and then, after an exchange of punts, it was Summerval's ball on Ranual’s forty-yard line. Bill held his breath as the ball was snapped to the halfback, who. lowering his head, plunged into the line of flying arms and feet. and. with a sicken- ing impact of bone and muscle, was crushed to the ground by a pile of Ranual men. Bill, with eager eyes, watched the men slowly get up. and something came up in his throat as he saw Gates lying limp and white on the ground. Bill’s breath came in long gasps as he saw the players lift the halfback and bring him towards the sidelines. I lad his chance come at last? Bill, half kneeling on the ground, prayed for a chance to make good, and when the coach turned to him and said: Get in there. Fleet, and fight for your life.” he tore off his sweater and sprinted on the field. He was given the ball on the first play, and he shot through skin tackle for six yards. On the next play the quarterback fumbled the ball, and a Ranual man fell on it on the fifty-yard line. Twenty yards back of the scrimmage line Fleet

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SOMERVILLE HIGH SCHOOL RADIATOR he had entered wide open. He could hear the breathing of the other man quicken and become heavy. Then came absolute silence. He stepped out from the shadow and faced the head of the stairs in time to see a dark form re- treating back down into the locker-room on tip- toe. Waiting until the form had passed from sight into the damp blackness down stairs. Dono- van himself descended. At first he could not see. but, as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he made out the figure of the unknown intruder, moving slowly along, apparently examining witii much difficulty the number of each locker. Suddenly Donovan caught his breath. There was something familiar in the stoop of those pow- erful shoulders. Who------Ah! lie knew. The unknown was Clancy, a new rubber taken on a few weeks before. Donovan frowned. Clancy, he knew, had no love for him, for Clancy’s left eye still showed the results of a little set-to the two had had a week before, from which Clancy had emerged in a much worse condition than Dono- van. A dull click broke the sullen stillness. Clancy had stopped before one of the long row of lockers and had twirled the combination lock correctly, for the door of the locker was open before him. Donovan, watching closely from the shelter of the stairs, saw him draw something, a glittering, tick- ing something, from his pocket, saw him hesi- tatingly. regretfully place it in a certain pocket f a coat hanging in the locker, and then----- Suddenly the man before the locker stiffened: his gaze roved from side to side, and his fingers twitched convulsively. Donovan realized that Clancy had sensed the fact that lie was being watched. Immediately Donovan found the electric light switch with his fingers and switched on the lights. Then he stepped out and faced the other man. Well, Clancy,” he said, was it cold feet or a guilty conscience?” Clancy stood glaring, but said nothing, so Donovan continued. It's all very simple, Clancy. You've had your eyes on that watch ever since you've been here. Did that open door startle you a little? If you'd had any nerve you'd have made for the door and run for it. Yes. it's a clear case of cold feet. Clancy sneered. Well, what are you going to do about it? he asked. 11 Do? echoed Donovan, surprised. Why. what would you do, now, if vou were in my place? I guess I'll keep you here till the boys come, and then put it up to them. They'll be here in—let me sec—about four minutes. Then Donovan got into action, for Clancy, evi- dently deciding that his engagements elsewhere would not permit him to wait for the boys, came at him with blood in his eye. It was a merry encounter while it lasted, and it lasted some few seconds less than a minute. When it ended, Clancy was fiat on his back, his damaged left eye still more damaged, and the right one almost equally as much. And there was Donovan, breathing a little hard but unmarked, smiling above him. Clancy, conquered and broken in spirit, looked up. The fierce sullenness in his swollen eyes was gone. They were pleading now. Finally he spoke in the voice of one making a confession. I was tempted. Donovan, from the moment 1 saw that watch. Hut you don’t understand. His voice broke and faltered. There’s a littie girl, my wife, sick in bed. All she needs is---.” Donovan broke in harshly. Cut it out, he commanded. It’s the truth. persisted Clancy. You won't believe me, but it's the truth. She needs nourish- ment and proper attention, and what I'd have got from that watch would have supplied her with both. You’d have done the same thing, he finished. Mis eyes were pleading again. Donovan look at him. He believed the man now. Yes. I guess I would.” he said thoughtfully. Donovan had a wife himself. Then you’ll let me go? Clancy got un- steadily to his feet. His eyes sought Donovan's eagerFy. but Donovan turned away, lie stood for a moment with his back to Clancy, and his hand went deep into his pocket. When he took it out again he turned around. Go ahead. said Trainer Mike, and held out his hand. Then the Dooming sound of rhythmic cheering was born to their cars like the rumbling of a dis- tant volcano. Out in the open air Clancy was not thinking of the triumph of the Reds, lie gave no heed to the howling, swirling mob around him. In his right hand he crumpled a ragged, old twenty-five-doll it bank note. In his mind was the picture of a girl