The guardian., 1940-11-02
NUMBER
l3
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By EDWARD BOYER
Mcclure Syndicate-WNU ServiceJ

SA44 L4lO Lll4lC. I1G CdlIlG
up 10 Vendome as a freshman with
a gorgeous new red plaid Jacket,
Weatherbeaten complexion, and
blush that rivaled those old fash
loned red flannel petticoats in color.
Jack went out for freshman foot
pau, but just couldn't seem to hang
on to the ball. Jerry Bright, who
was a sophomore, lent him a derby
and told him to carry it around with
him, which he did for a week,
clutching it solemnly.
Jack couldn't remember signals.
either. He used to go around the
campus muttering: hike!
-1-9-7-4-2."
1t was at the sophomore-freshman
halloween dance that Jack met his
first coed. She was Edna Brown.
That was the night that Jerry Bright
and his side kick, Herb Donover,
pledged Jack to a fake fraternity
and his face redder than ever with
pride, he showed Edna the supposed
pledge pin which they had given him
utterly unconscious of its insignia
S. A. P. And he asked to take
her home.
1t was that night, too, that the
sophomores raised Christy's corpse.
Christy Curley, they said, was an es-
capped inmate of the institute for the
insane, and had been found the week
before with his throat cut open from
ear to ear. The room was in utter
darkness when Herb Donover told
the story to the shuddering frosh.
AS the hoarse tones of his voice
whispered the ghastly words, there
slithered in long, white figure with
a crimson cash across it's throat.
There was a howl of terror, the
crash of chair overturned, and a
gasping, shrieking figure hurtled
through the room and out the near
est door. When the lights flashed
on, the corpse was gone, and so was
Jack HaViland.
He did not appear again that
night, and Edna went home alone.
Two nights later Edna Brown
snuggled close to the caressing
shoulder of Bull Jenkins. He was
the star tackle on the team of Down
town Prep. And right now he was
trying to persuade Edna that on next
Saturday she ought to root for his
team when they met the cubs Of
Vendome.
Edna would pet, but she wouldn't
promise.
I'm tell you one thing, though" !"
she cooed softly. "If that sap Jack
HGviland gets into the game, all
you I'VE to do is yell 'Christy's
corpse in his ear, and he'll drop
the ball like hot potato" For any
woman who is left to gO home alone
is like Edna Brown.
Saturday was one of those days
fashioned for football and fall we'd
dings. Jack was early on the field;
the coach hadn't told him not to
come. Twenty jerseys we're provid-
ed and on the team Jack ranked
81. So he sat jerseyless at the far
end of the bench and watched his
team fight back the terrific on
slaughts of Bull Jenkins and his
Downtown Founders. At the end of
the third quarter the score was 90.
When the last quarter opened
there we're only three regulars on
the field. Only two men beside Jack
we're on the bench. Bull Jenkins
and his gang tore loose. After
tough line rush two substitutes were
taken out for injuries. Jack sat on
the bench alone.
The ball was on Vendome's fifteen
yard line, fourth down, two yards to
90. Downtown was dead set on
crashing through. With all his
strength Bull hurled himself into the
line plunge. When the heap was un-
tangled, the ball was seven inches
short of the line, and Steamy Doug
las was sitting on the ground with
his ankle turned under him.
Get in there, Haviland," rasped
the coach. Here, one of you guys,
give him a shirt" The jersey hit
Jack in the head; as he dragged it
over his shoulders he looked for the
number. 1t was 13.
AS he ran, a little bewildered,
across the field, Bull jenkins
marked him for his own.
Jack crCuched low for the signal.
l-9-74-2!" barked Howie James,
the quarterback. Hike! 1-8-4-13." J."
AT the number Jack sprang auto
matically into the air. That was his
number. He'd have to get the ball.
II was a forward pass, and as it
sailed over his head, Jack gave a
great leap into the air and came
down with it clutched to his chest.
The crowd groaned. Bull jenkins
was cutting across the field right
for Jack. He circled behind him
and shrieked, "Christy's corpsel"
With one yell Jack fled down the
field, clutching the ball because he
had nothing else to cling to.
Bull jenkins painted behind him;
as those pursuing footsteps sounded
louder. Jack clung closer to the COM
forting ball, shrieked to the heavens,
and ran faster.
ttu.a4, ~ lact his ptIrSueT felled