Boys of Columbia High on the Gridiron | Page 3

Graham B. Forbes
me off the earth?"
Asa Barnes was nothing, if not a sneak. Throughout his entire career at school he had been looked upon as a species of snake, and had few friends. Even those who did go with him, on account of his having unlimited spending money, always kept a cautious eye out for treachery.
"Oh, you're going to get it where the chicken did--in the neck!" he replied cheerfully, with a grin that told of secret pleasure, for he liked to see others suffer.
"No kidding now, but tell me the truth for once. Is Ralph West the wonder they make out? Can he play half-back better than I do? I'm not from Missouri, but, all the same, I want to know; for it's going to settle a question I've had in my mind a long time. Cut in, now!" exclaimed Tony, wrathfully.
"He's all to the good," replied the other, grimly, "and when I say that, disliking the fellow as I do, you can understand it means something. I never saw a quicker half-back in my life; and when it comes to making a tackle, the fellow doesn't really know what fear is! If they put him on the regulars, there's going to be something doing among those long-legged chaps from Clifford."
Tony growled like a bear with a sore head; he also cast a side look at his companion, as though questioning his sincerity. Asa liked to see anyone squirm, and often did and said things just for that privilege. His companions had long ago declared that he was cut out for a surgeon--or a butcher, like his father.
"Once for all, do you mean that?" hissed the enraged boy, laying a quivering hand on his comrade's arm.
"I certainly do. He's got the Indian sign on you, Tony, for fair. Mark my words, when I predict that, unless something unusual happens between now and next Saturday, when we play Clifford, Ralph West is going to take your place at left half-back!"
The other fairly glared at him.
"Well, you're awful plain about it, Asa," he muttered.
"You told me to be, and I'm giving you my honest opinion. But, all the same now, I don't think this disaster will happen," Asa added, with a grin at the other.
"Oh, you don't, eh? What's going to prevent it?" demanded Tony.
"You are, unless I'm mighty much mistaken in your make-up," said the other boy, promptly. "Remember what we agreed to do about that Bones Shadduck, for getting us knocked down with that measly old Delta Pi business? Well, there's a pair of 'em now!"
"Do you mean it. Will you stick with me if I try to knock West out, so he won't be able to play football again for weeks? Are you game, or do you mean to egg me on to the last ditch, and then sidestep, leaving me to shoulder all the blame?"
Tony's face was eager, and the light in his eyes told of a fierce desire to do something mean that would accomplish the desire of his heart.
His companion laughed as though it might be a joke. Asa was so used to others suspecting his honesty of purpose that he never seemed to get offended when they doubted his word. Another boy might have shown temper, but Asa never did this. He might grit his teeth behind a fellow's back, and vow to get even for an insult; but to his face he was either smiling or sneering, as the humor seized him.
"Yes, I'll help you out. Remember, it isn't because I feel for you," he said, quickly, as though he feared lest he should actually be considered as possessing any consideration for a comrade. "I've got my own little axe to grind, you see. The fellow happens to be sweet on Helen Allen, and once on a time she used to go with me to parties and the like. You understand, don't you, Tony?"
"Sure. And there's nothing that burns so deep as that. Then it's settled that we're going to lay for both Ralph and Bones at the very first chance, with some fellows we can depend on, and do them up? That's the programme, Asa?"
"I leave the particulars to you. Meanwhile I'll drum up a few recruits to make the crowd. Just now I know of three bully fellows who happen to have it in for either Ralph or Bones. You get as many, and then there's going to be some fun doing," and Asa laughed in the cold-blooded fashion that made so many dislike him.
"Well, when a fellow is bruised to beat the band, not to speak of possibly a broken rib or two, he ain't going to play football in a hurry," grunted Tony.
The other cast a quick look at his companion.
"You don't want to go too far, old chap. If he
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