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Frank Merriwell at Fardale
By GILBERT PATTEN The Original BURT L. STANDISH
© Gilbert Patten WNU Service
CHAPTER IX—Continued
-15-
Second down, twelve to go, with
the State cheer booming across the
field now. What did that Fardale
quarterback think he was doing,
ilamming his lighter players into
State’s impregnable defense? Futile
*nd silly. The State men were
laughing.
Another formation for a run. But
fio, it was a fake. Springall took
the ball and kicked quickly. He got
it away and the wind helped carry
it along.
Washburn, Fardale’s left end, got
through this time between guard
and tackle. The over-confident State
men had been caught almost flat-
footed, and Washburn did some
clever side-stepping and a little fast
running. He downed the ball-catcher
well over in State’s territory.
A bit disgusted, but still confi¬
dent, State settled down to show the
home boys some real football. Of
course Fardale knew what it was up
against. Otherwise a long kick
never would have been considered
on second down. That early in the
game, it was the trick of a team
lacking faith in its driving force.
Anyhow, that was the way State
doped it.
Merriwell was trying to take it
easy on the bench. He was trying
to keep from getting too tense. If
he got into this game at all, he
Wanted to be in the right condition,
mentally and otherwise.
He watched the State steamroller
start rolling, saw it steadily and
surely grind forward into Fardale
territory. It was bumping the
breath out of the blue-and-white de¬
fenders. And it hadn’t yet turned
to either of the two scoring plays
Kane had so carefully drilled his
players against. Had the scout been
mistaken about those plays?
No! There was the first one, a run
around the strong end by the right
halfback, w’ith State’s end blocking
Washburn, Fardale’s left end, in to¬
ward the line.
And now, with a heavy but swift
lnterferer ahead of him, that back-'
field man came booming round the
flank and went romping over the
chalk-marks for a touchdown.
Washburn had failed. He had for¬
gotten Kane’s order not to worry
about leaving a hole in the line, but
to get outside the opposing end man
and fight him off, while striving
himself to get out still further out,
if possible, to force the runner to
swing wide. Had he remembered
to follow instructions the run might
have gained, but it would not, in all
probability, have been good for a
touchdown.
With the crowd in the south stand
chanting State’s fighting song, fol¬
lowing a stirring cheer, State lined
up to attempt a place-kick for the
extra point. The angle was a little
difficult, but State kickers seldom
missed the posts. One of them
booted the leather now, and Far¬
dale failed to touch the ball.
But the wind took a hand. It
swerved the ball just enough tp
carry it against one of the posts,
and caromed off outside. Six points
instead of seven.
State didn’t mind that. Six points
were merely a starter. Those confi¬
dent fellows were thinking they
might make 60 or more before the
final whistle blew.
Time out now and a pause in
which the school band played “Fair
Fardale.” Kane was sending a man
in to take Washburn’s place.
Hodge!
Frank had forgotten that Bart had
been transferred from the scrub the
night before. Now he saw him fling
off his wraps and start out on to
the field. The fellow who had
thought himself buried with the
dead ones who were doomed never
to play for Fardale was ordered to
get into the game ahead of Merri¬
well.
Frank was human, and in that
moment he felt a twisting stab of
the commonest and meanest of hu¬
man emotions. Jealousy. That was
something he had though he’d
learned to control and hold at bay,
-but it got him now and stung him
deep and hard.
He and Hodge were the only two
freshmen to make the squad, and to
a certain extent he had helped
Bart’s reputation with the coach by
yielding to Inza’s wishes and say¬
ing a good word for the fellow at
every opportunity. Now Hodge was
going into this game to fight for
Fardale and Frank was still glued
fast to the bench.
Merry had been too busy to see
Inza for more than a moment or
two since Sunday, but only last
night Barney had told him that
Hodge had managed to see her
often. And the frank Irish boy had
expressed his conviction that she
was a two-timer who was playing
Frank for a simple sap. He had
laughed at Barney then, but he
wasn’t laughing now. His face was
a study of deep dejection.
He thought of her, sitting with her
brother somewhere up in the stand
behind him and applauding Bart,
and decided that Barney was right.
Just a simple sap, that’s what he
was.
The game went on with Hodge do¬
ing a real job at left end. Every
time that same State runner came
steaming round that end Bart was
outside the opposing lineman and
forcing the ball-carrier to make a
wider swing. Thus he gave the Far¬
dale backfield time to charge in
and stop the play repeatedly before
more than small gains could be
made. And qnce he broke clear
and brought the runner down him¬
self for a slight loss.
The whole team had stiffened.
Seeing this, State went into smash¬
ing tactics that soon had Kane send¬
ing in replacement after replace¬
ment for players who had been
knocked out of commission. The
coach was using up his best re¬
serves fast, but, between pluck and
many lucky breaks, Fardale hung
on through the first and second
quarters without being scored
against again.
But the blue-and-white had fought
more than three-fourths of the time
in its own territory. Not once had
it got within striking distance of the
enemy’s goal, and always the spec¬
tators—even the optimistic of the
There Was No Stopping
Him Then.
Fardale fans—had constantly looked
for a blow-up that would let the
maroon jerseys run as wild and
handsome as they pleased.
And when the whistle sounded the
end of the half the shadows of their
own goal-posts were on the backs of
the Fardale players.
There was a heavier shadow on
the face of Coach Kane.
Tom Kane was too wise to carry a
clouded face into the dressing room,
but he was grim as he walked about
amid the benches and tables on
which many of the fellows were ly¬
ing while rubbers worked over
them. He had a few words for each
man, words of encouragement or in¬
struction; sometimes of warning
against faults betrayed on the field.
Now and then he gave one of them
a pat on the back. At times a slight
smile played upon his otherwise
hard-set face.
At length the call came: “On the
field in three minutes.”
Then the coach made his speech,
quietly:
“You did your work well out there
in the first half. You put up a fine
defense against a team that ex¬
pected to walk all over you. When
they found they couldn’t do that
they tried to put fear into your
souls. But you weren’t afraid. You
showed them you could take it and
come right back for more. Now
you’re going out there and give it.
Games are won by courage and
quick thinking oftener than other¬
wise, and you’ve got more of that
stuff than State has. But look out
for their air attack. They’ve
scarcely used it yet, but they w r ill
when they find you are outsmarting
them.
“You broke up their right-end
run after they worked it for that one
touchdown, and now they’ll prob¬
ably uncork their other big play
from the same formation—a double
spin with two fake passes and a
slash through a hole they’ll try to
open between tackle and guard. Be
on your toes for that. Now go out
there and feed it to ’em!”
Still over-confident, State expected
to see an opposing team that was
all shot and nine-tenths licked come
back to the field. What they did see
was a team that apparently had just
begun to fight. Within two minutes
Fardale met the double-spin play
1 and tore it to shreds for a small
loss.
But a Fardale backfielder, who
had charged into the line of scrim¬
mage, was down. It was Elmer Da¬
vis. They got him up and two men
,
DADE COUNTY TIMES: THURSDAY, JANUARY 13, 1938
half carried him toward the Far¬
dale bench. He was completely out
of the game.
“Now, Merriwell,” said Kane, “go
in there.”
The coach had been holding Frank
in reserve to fill Davis' place when
the time came—and it had come.
His heart pounding, Merry leaped
up and hastened to report to the
referee. At last!
Ten seconds later he was in the
midst of another line smash that
stopped State again, with no gain.
Then State went into the air, but
the first pass was incompleted and
a kick followed. Fardale’s safety
man got the ball and ran with it
when Merry cut off the State player
who was charging to tackle. A
20-yard gain set the Fardale crowd
roaring. This was like the Muske¬
teers when they were right.
State was both worried and angry
now, and nothing does more dam¬
age than worry and anger. Before
the Maroon players could pull them¬
selves together Fardale had tricked
them with a faked pass and an end
run that netted another first down.
Was Fardale going to town?
Fast action now, fast and sure.
No waiting for State to settle down.
A line-buck for two yards, and then
an unexpected trick. Fardale came
back with State’s own double-spin¬
ner play. It surprised and discon¬
certed State, threw the secondary
defense into uncertainty and com¬
pletely off balance.
The runner came through the hole
and broke loose with the ball. He
was Merriwell. Weaving, dodging,
side-stepping, changing his pace,
Frank was as elusive as an electri¬
fied ghost. He straight-armed the
last would-be tackier and was in
the open.
There was no stopping him then.
With the goggling, gasping, roaring
crowd standing to the last human
who could stand, he sped away for
a touchdown.
And then, “Block that kick!” was
the imploring cry of the State crowd
as Fardale lined up to try for the
point, with Springall holding and
Frank in position to boot the leath¬
er.
Merry advanced and swung the
good right leg that somebody had
accused him of stealing from Char¬
lie Brickley. The spheroid sailed
over the exact center of the cross¬
bar, putting the Musketeers one
point ahead, and the north stand
became a madhouse.
Merriwell didn’t' know they were
cheering for him. He didn’t hear
the crowd roaring his name. So
concentrated was he upon the busi¬
ness in hand that he saw and heard
nothing, not a part of it. Heart
and soul, he was giving that busi¬
ness all he had to give.
Now it was up to Fardale to hold
that one-point lead—to hold it some¬
how and to add to it if humanly
possible.
And now State, seeing at last that
the expected push-over was not go¬
ing to come off, was growing pan¬
icky. The thought of being defeated
by Fardale was very shocking to
them.
Over-confidence was gone, but
something just as bad—or worse—
had followed.
When the third quarter passed
with Fardale not only holding its
one-point lead, but continuing to
threaten, State knew she must gam¬
ble. The final quarter saw State
throwing passes which got her no¬
where until the last minute of the
game. Then two completions car¬
ried the Maroons to Fardale’s 15-
yard line and had the Fardale spec¬
tators shaking in their shoes.
Then there was a fumble in a
line-buck. Out of the melee came
Merriwell with the ball. Again he
broke through. Again he was off
for a run, with the crowd shrieking.
Once more he ducked and weaved
and went flying onward.
But a maroon backfielder had
him. He couldn’t get past this time.
Not a chance.
Frank had seen a lone Fardale
runner coming up. It was Hodge.
But Bart couldn’t reach the man to
block him. So Merry, veering to
the left, threw a lateral to Hodge
and threw himself, instantly, into
the clutches of the tackier, both go¬
ing down.
Bart took the ball on the dead run
and ran still faster until he could
put it down behind the goal-posts.
There was riotous rejoicing in
the dressing room. Fardale, with
Merriwell, again booting the ball
for the extra point, had beaten the
strong State Second team, 14 to 6.
Kane himself was laughing like a
boy. He had told them all what he
thought of the fine job they had
pulled off, and he had actually
hugged both Merriwell and Bart
Hodge.
“Now let anybody tell me Fardale
hasn’t got a team!” he said.
Bart took his shower and rub-
down, and dressed in a hurry. He
was the first to leave. Merry saw
him go and fancied he knew the
cause of his haste. Of course he
had a date to meet a certain per¬
son after the game.
Tad Jones was waiting when
Frank left the gym. The boy was
steaming with excitement.
“Gosh, Frank!” he chattered.
“Gosh, you was just the real Mc¬
Coy! You was right there with the
old works. I’ll tell the cockeyed
world! But there’s somethin’ else I
gotter tell you. Miss Inza’s gone
up to Mr. Snodd’s ’nd wants you to
come there right away. She told
me to fetch ya, dead or alive.”
Merriwell hesitated. So that was
where Hodge had hastened away to
so soon. Well, there might as well
be a show-down now as later. No
use putting it off.
“All right, let’s go,” he said.
“But we gotter keep away from
the campus. Hear that crowd roar¬
in’, Frank. They’re celebratin’, ’nd
Professor Scotch is leadin’ ’em. He’s
hoarse as an old bullfrog, too. He
won’t have no voice to lecher with
for a week.”
Merry found Inza in Snodd’s big
living room, alone. She was sitting
at the piano, just as he had seen her
the first time, and her fingers were
dancing like pixies over the keys.
The music that poured from the pi¬
ano was wild and gay.
He came up and stood beside her.
She felt him there, and the tune
ended with a crash. She sprang
up and caught hold of him with
eyes a starry glow.
“Oh, Frank!” she said. “I want
to tell you, Frank, that you’re just
the greatest thing that ever blevr
into this neck of the woods.”
THE END
World May Have Been Without Bugs for
60 Million Years, Scientists Suspect
Was this an almost bugless world
for about 60,000,000 years? One of
the enigmas of paleontology is that
so few insect remains have been
found in rocks of the Cretaceous
geologic period which just preceded
the coming of mammals, birds and
flowering plants, says a writer in
the Chicago Daily News.
The Cretaceous was a time of
abundant life. It was the heydey
of the great dinosaurs. The Juras¬
sic period which preceded it was
notable for the abundance and vari¬
ety of its insects. Yet up to the
present practically none has been
found, except for one locality in
Germany, in Cretaceous rocks.
There is no known reason why
there shouldn’t have been insects.
Abundant before, they became
abundant again in the succeeding
Eocene and have remained one of
the dominant forms of life on earth
ever since. Cretaceous climates
were propitious for them. There
was plenty for them to eat.
It is, of course, only by a rare
accident that insect imprints ever
are preserved as fossils. But there
are such vast numbers of “bugs”
that even the rare accidents be¬
come rather numerous.
Smithsonian institution paleontol¬
ogists are loath to believe that there
actually were few Cretaceous in¬
sects. The probability is that there
are plenty of fossil imprints which
haven’t been found in spite of in¬
tensive search.
While this I n remains,
however, ther* rrnton UialIy a 60,-
000,000-year g_.life story of
A* Yo
one of the dominant forms of ani¬
mal life. Hence any sort of Creta¬
ceous insect fossil is like the rarest
sort of gem in the eyes of the pale¬
ontologist. Hence special signifi¬
cance is attributed to two wing
prints which have come into the
Smithsonian collection from a Cre¬
taceous sandstone in eastern Colo¬
rado which have been tentatively
clasified by Paul W. Oman of the
department of agriculture.
Both are “bugs.” A bug, in the
terminology of the entomologist, has
the restricted meaning of a “heter-
opterous hemipterous” insect, and
the word is correctly used in ref-
erencf to the bedbug, the stinkbug,
chinch bugs, and the like. Closely
related are the hoppers, mealy bugs
and the rest.
One of the creatures described by
Mr. Oman was a giant leaf hopper.
It was bigger than the average of
this family now extant and nearly
as large as the largest. The other,
described from a smaller fragment
of wing impression in the sand¬
stone, was probably closely related
to the present-day squashbug and
not far distant from the bedbug or
stinkbug.
It is hardly conceivable that these
two fragments and a few more like
them are all the trace left behind
them of the billions of billions of
insects which must have infested
the Cretaceous landscapes.
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Opportunity Created thl
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