The daily monitor leader. [volume] (Mount Clemens, Mich.) 1942-19??, 1943-01-20

$50 you want me to pull my
punches. That it,"
"You know what ! mean"
"You want me to say, Beg
pardon, Fred. didn't mean to
try that hard That it,"
whats the m after with
your"
THE matter is I'm on the top
of my game and feel like play
ing, and don't believe in baby
ing anybody, even your little
pals"
"Oh, Hank"
IF they don't feel able to pro-
tect themselves, then this just
isn't their game.
"All right. l haven't got any
thing more to say
She touchdown at her hands,
folded in her lap. Across the
level green came the murmur-
ing of the people in the stands,
and, closer by, the grooms cried
to each other and TO the horses,
and the horses stamped their
feet and made their bits ring as
they champed.
Henry Prentiss' hand fell on
her arm and she looked up at
him. The most bewildering
change had come over his face.
He seemed at once astonished
and chagrined, and for the first
time since she had known him,
he was at a loss for words.
Z" he began. Then, Say
-" And he got down out of the
car, muttering. Il guess you're
right. Sure. You're right"
Hardly looking back at her
at all, he walked stiffly off to
his string of ponies and took his
part in the hustle as eight men
got on horses, and eight grooms
pulled up girths, checked stir
rup feathers. Captain Pugh came
toward him again.
"As a personal favor to me"
he began. But Henry Prentiss
waved him away. "Okay," he
said. "Okay." He mounted and
rode off.
Thereafter, for all the remain
ing three periods, those mortals
in the stands who had so lately
been loud in their approval of
Henry Prentiss were silent. Not
altogether silent, of course. For
after time,in which the Whirf-
winds drew the score even and
took all the pace away from a
Henry Prentiss suddenly grown
listless, there was whispering.
Whats the matter? Has the
guy lost his guts?" And, Il
never would have thought Hank
Prentiss had a yellow streak in
him"
He kept himself clear of the
scrimmages, and, as if by DELHI
crate plan, always managed to
be a length or two late reaching
the ball, when he really seemed
to try for it at all"
Thus it was that when the
final whistle blew, Fred West
and his Whirlwinds were the
people who moved, weary but
exultant, toward the small table
in front of the stands where the
cleaning trophies stood, and
tried their best to look bored
While the photographers went at
their work.
Cynthia MerriWether to o k
Henry Prentiss home in her sta
ton wagon. 1t was not wholly a
pleasant journey.
Il did all right, didn't T." he
asked. The old, careless grin was
back again now. and he wanted
her response to it.
Eyes. Thanks" she said. But
not as she really meant it.
Not satisfied, Pretty?"
ITO tel. the truth, you make
me feel sort of foolish"
LAS how"
81 didn't mean. for you to quit
cold. Did you do that just for
spite-just to make me feel
guilty? Were you calling me a
coward?"
Last thing l ever would
think of. You know that"
What happened, them"
Il lost interest.
II guess I should have stayed
out of it,"
I'm glad you didn't"
THE people who lost money
will be saying nasty things"
mot to my face" He laughed
again, with genuine gaiety. And
she could not resist it. She slap
ped him on the knee.
You're about ID years old"
she said.
But strong and well-de-
veloped for my age"
They drew up in front of his
cottage. They laughed again, and
he got out.
Thank you, Miss Merriweth-
err" he said.
1T must be like I always
heard" she said, and shook her
head sadly.