Left Tackle Thayer

Left Tackle Thayer

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Left Tackle Thayer, by Ralph Henry
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Title: Left Tackle Thayer
Author: Ralph Henry Barbour
Release Date: September 27, 2004 [EBook #13542]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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TACKLE THAYER ***

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[Illustration: Victory]

Left Tackle Thayer
BY
RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
AUTHOR OF
LEFT-END EDWARDS, LEFT GUARD GILBERT, ETC.
ILLUSTRATED BY CHARLES M. RELYEA

1915

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE
I A NEW BOY AND AN OLD ONE . . 3 II CAPTAIN INNES
RECEIVES . . . 18 III AMY AIRS HIS VIEWS . . . 31 IV CLINT
CUTS PRACTICE . . . 42 V ON THE SECOND . . . . 53 VI THE
RUNAWAY WHEEL . . . . 65 VII LOST! . . . . . . 77 VIII THE
MYSTERIOUS AUTO . . . 89 IX UNDER SUSPICION . . . . 104 X
BURIED TREASURE . . . . 118 XI BRIMFIELD MEETS DEFEAT . . .
129 XII PENNY LOSES HIS TEMPER . . . 148 XIII AMY WINS A
CUP . . . . 163 XIV THE TEAM TAKES REVENGE . . . 180 XV A
BROKEN FIDDLE . . . . 196 XVI AMY TAKES A HAND . . . . 210
XVII A STRANGER INTERRUPTS . . . 223 XVIII A RAID ON THE
SECOND . . . 233 XIX MR. DETWEILER INSTRUCTS. . . 244 XX
'VARSITY vs. SECOND TEAM . . 259 XXI THE LETTER THAT
WASN'T WRITTEN . 270 XXII DREER LOOKS ON . . . . 288 XXIII
CLINT HAS STAGE-FRIGHT . . . 297 XXIV IN THE ENEMY'S
COUNTRY . . . 313 XXV VICTORY! . . . . . 327

ILLUSTRATIONS
VICTORY . . . . . Frontispiece NOW AND THEN THEY SPOKE,
BUT SO SOFTLY THAT THE BOYS COULD NOT HEAR WHAT
WAS SAID . . . . . . . 90
"FUNNY YOU DIDN'T MAKE A SUCCESS OF IT!" CHUCKLED
CLINT . . . . . 170
"NO, HE WON'T!" EXCLAIMED CLINT, JUMPING TO HIS
FEET . . . . . . 292

LEFT TACKLE THAYER

CHAPTER I
A NEW BOY AND AN OLD ONE
A boy in a blue serge suit sat on the second tier of seats of an otherwise

empty grand-stand and, with his straw hat pulled well over his eyes,
watched the progress of a horse-drawn mower about a field. The horse
was a big, well-fed chestnut, and as he walked slowly along he bobbed
his head rhythmically. In the seat of the mower perched a thin little
man in a pair of blue overalls and a shirt which had also been blue at
one time, but which was now faded almost white. A broad-brimmed
straw hat of the sort affected by farmers, protected his head from the
noonday sun. Between the overalls and the rusty brogans on his feet
several inches of bare ankle intervened, and, as he paraded slowly
around the field, almost the only sign of life he showed was when he
occasionally stooped to brush a mosquito from these exposed portions
of his anatomy. The horse, too, wore brogans, big round leather shoes
which strapped over his hoofs and protected the turf, and, having never
before seen a horse in leather boots, the boy on the grand-stand had
been for a while mildly interested. But the novelty had palled some
time ago, and now, leaning forward with his sun-browned hands
clasped loosely between his knees, he continued to watch the mower
merely because it was the only object in sight that was not motionless,
if one excepts the white clouds moving slowly across a blue September
sky.
Now and then the clouds seemed to shadow the good-looking, tanned
face of the youth, producing a troubled, sombre expression. The truth is
that Master Clinton Boyd Thayer was lonesome and, although he
would have denied it vigorously, a little bit homesick. (At sixteen one
may be homesick even though one scoffs at the notion.) Clinton had
left his home at Cedar Run, Virginia, the evening before, had changed
into a sleeper at Washington just before midnight, and reached New
York very early this morning. From there, although he had until five in
the afternoon to reach Brimfield Academy, he had departed after a
breakfast eaten in the Terminal and had arrived at Brimfield at a little
before nine.