The Waterbury Democrat., 1941-11-11

stadium bondholderS - thatS all.'
 There was a knock. "Come in." snapped Dugan.
 Laird, suitcase in hand, looking not at all apologetic.
 Dugan nodded to Lester and the assistant exited without a word. "sit down. Laird" said Dugan.
 'TTl stand" They glared at each other before Pete spoke again. Before you go into song and dance, Coach, didn't come here to cry on your shoulder. I'm not sorry about what did. I'd do it again if I had a chance. That's my private business, and I don't care to argue about it."
 Dugan gripped the arms of his chair. He wanted to get up and kick this insolent kid out of his office, but something warned him to sit there and stay cool. Foot ball was 8 precarious business at best. They paid of on how many games you won, not how many model young scholars you had on your team. If he won he was the Wizard of State A couple of lean years and he was just an- other bum.
 GO ahead" he said, sitting back and folding his hands under his chin. "Go ahead and say your piece"
 'Coach,' Laird leaned over the desk and pointed his finger at Dugan, you know how much this season meant to me at the begin ming. We'll, it means even more right now. Never mind why. It just does.
 Your business is running & football team" he continued. That's all you're interested in. You can give that rah-rah State baloney to the sophomores. I've been around too long for that. If you leave me alone, II play bet ter fotball for you than I ever did. I'll be helping myself and helping you. But if you try to make this 8 Boy Scout troop, you'll be cutting your own throat. Suit yourself"
 Dugan sat quietly for a full minute. Was this Pete Laird talk ing? Was this the boyish, modest kid who used to come out of game and ask nervously, Was that all right, MT. Dugan?' Dugan didn't blink an eyelash.
 %. K. Pete," he said, standing up, Tets shake on it."
 Even Laird was surprised at the ease with which he had accom- plished teh whole thing. He looked at Dugan quizzically, gripped his hand and left without saying 8 word.
 That evening George Landers bolted into the ever-crowded Delt House hallway, walked up to Anne Humphreys and crushed her in his arms. They were alone - the room full of people was out | of their world. You're mine now, darling" Landers said huskily. She closed her eyes and pressed l her cheek against his. Sorority l heads flew together as they | walked out arm III arm.
 And Pete Laird lived in a world | of his own, too. Coaches and players summed him at practice but he was impervious to hos tility. He seemed to relish the enforced solitude. His football was beyond reproach; If anything it was better than ever.
 
 Thirty-seven squad boys moved to 8 hinterland country club Friday to | get away from University Towns | pre-game hustle. Alumni poured into the town for the Northwestern | game. A capacity crowd was pre- dicted. Press excavations carried an corner on the sports writ | ing fraternity. And the magnet | that drew them was the magic name of Laird.
 Pete roomed alone at the club that night, the first time in three years he had been separated from Landers. Of al the players, George had avoided him most studiously. They hadn't talked for days.
 Game time Saturday brought the same tightening of the craw, the giddiness and quickening of the pulse Pete had experienced as a sophomore. Trainer Artie Lewis blackened his eyes with shadow to protect them from the sun. He was trim, eager to get started.
 Dugan scorned long locker room tirades. Open up early" he di- rected. Get these guys in hole on your feet-go to workl'
 A cacophony of sound roared | in their ears as they logged out. "Statel State! State!" chanted the crowd. Opening day at home, and the crowd was for them. Northwestern, brawny and capa- ble, came stroming out on the field. Obviously the opposing | eleven was hopped up for this game. Fitted against the top team of the nation, it aimed to pull the | upset of the season.
 Landers won the toss and l elected to receive. The crowd was tense as they lined up. How good was this bunch? As godo as the California score would indicate?
 Pete Laird moved his legs, keeping loose. Whistle - kickoff