Dick Merriwell's Trap; Or, The Chap Who BungledStandish, Burt L.
General
Dick Merriwell's Trap; Or, The Chap Who Bungled
Standish, Burt L.
Boys -- Juvenile fiction; Football -- Juvenile fiction; Mystery fiction; Schools -- Juvenile fiction
“From our place? Oh, he isn’t with us.”
Kennedy was not found, but Buckhart was still certain he had arrived in
town, even after they turned back toward the academy.
“He’s here, pard,” asserted the Texan. “I never make a mistake in faces.
That onery whelp stepped off the train, or I’m a Chinaman! You hear me
chirp!”
“I should like to meet him!” said Dick.
“And I’d enjoy being with you, pard. There would be something doing, you
bet!”
The gamblers from Uniontown found takers for their bets in Fardale, as
the villagers had great confidence in the academy team, which had not
met defeat while under command of Dick Merriwell. Odds of two to one
seemed like a good thing and were gobbled up.
At one o’clock p. m. Dick Merriwell received a shock. He was sent for by
the athletic committee, which was in session at the time. When he
appeared before them, Phil Warne said:
“Mr. Merriwell, we have concluded that, while you have done splendidly
with the eleven, you have not been playing the men in just the right
positions. Besides,” he went on swiftly, not permitting Dick to speak,
“there are two men on the team who are not strong men, and we have
concluded to drop them off for this game and try the experiment of
supplying their places. We do this now because this is not a game with a
school eleven, and we can better afford to experiment than at any other
time. If we find we have improved the team, we shall be very glad. But
we insist that the team be given a fair trial as we have arranged it, no
changes being made until we give you permission, save on account of
injuries. Here is the line-up of the team, with the names of substitutes
to be used, if substitutes are required.”
There was a strange look on Dick’s face as he took the paper from
Warne’s hand and glanced over the line-up of the team. His cheeks
flushed and his eyes gleamed.
“Gentlemen of the committee,” he said, his voice distinct but low, “I
need not say that I am surprised at your most surprising action. I think
you are making a big mistake and are exceeding the bounds of your
authority. It is not necessary to call attention to the fact that
Fardale has not lost a game this season. Up to this time the making up
of the team has been left almost wholly to me. In taking this privilege
out of my hands you have handicapped me greatly, making it impossible
for me to work to the best advantage. I think the mistake is liable to
prove fatal. The shifting about of these players I consider ill-advised,
the dropping of Kent and Dare weakens the line, and, on the whole, the
team as given here will go on the field to-day greatly weakened.”
Chester Arlington had listened, his lips curling and his eyes expressing
contempt. When Dick finished, Chester turned to Hadley Burrows,
observing loud enough for the captain of the eleven to hear:
“Didn’t I say he could insult the committee! He has had things his own
way altogether too long.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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