Left Tackle Thayer

Left Tackle Thayer

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Left Tackle Thayer, by Ralph Henry Barbour This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
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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[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. An hour had sufficed him to register and unpack his bag and trunk in the room assigned to him in Torrence Hall. Since that time--and it was now almost twelve o'clock--he had wandered about the