Football -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- Juvenile fiction
“Scrap be blowed,” said Renneker. “There wasn’t any scrap. Those
fellows pushed into us and we had some words, merely joking. Then this
fellow suddenly jumped at Reilly and tried to punch him and I stepped
in the way and got the punch. I told him to behave and he jabbed at me
again. Then I gave him one in the ribs. That’s all there was to it. As
far as we were concerned, the whole thing was a joke, but that crazy
Irishman lost his temper, I guess.”
“Yes,” said Leonard, “I guess, from what Johnny says, that he’s sort of
hot-headed.”
“Decidedly! And his hot-headedness has played the dickens with me,
Grant. Look here, are you in a hurry? Let’s sit down a minute. You’ve
heard part of the story, and I’d like to tell you the rest of it. It’ll
do me good to get it off my chest to some one, I fancy.”
They swung themselves to the top rail of the fence in the shadow
between two lights and Renneker went on.
“This is confidential, Grant. I’d rather you didn’t say anything about
it to any one, if you don’t mind. It might make worse trouble if it
got around. Thanks. Now, let’s see. I think I’d better start at the
beginning. I dare say you’ve heard that I got a bit of a reputation at
Castle City High as a guard. We have pretty good teams there, and we
generally manage to lick about every one we go up against. I don’t
believe I was much better than half a dozen other chaps on our team,
last year or the year before, but it sort of got around that I was good
and the New York papers played me up. There’s a fellow named Cravath
who lives in my town and he went to school here at Alton. Last summer
he got after me. Told me about Alton and how much more of a chance
there was for me here. I liked the high school well enough, but I’d
always had an idea that I’d prefer a prep school. Besides, when it
comes to going to college it’s a help if you go up from a well-known
school like Alton. We haven’t much money; the family I mean. Father
used to be very well off some six or eight years ago, and we grew up
rather free-handed, us kids. Then he lost it. Quite a spectacular
bust-up, Grant, but it wouldn’t interest you. What I’m getting at is
that when it came to a question of coming here for two years the lot of
us had to do some figuring.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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