Halfback Attack (5 page)

“Hello, Freddie,” she said. “I want to thank you for coming to Jimmie’s rescue. He told me about the trouble he had with that
boy.”

“What trouble?” Mom said. She looked puzzled, and Mrs. Rose went on to tell her exactly what had happened. Jimmie, Freddie
realized, hadn’t left out a single detail in telling his mom the story.

“You know, he looks up to you,” said Mrs. Rose. “Matter of fact, he says you’re the best football
player in the whole league and wants to play like you when he gets bigger.”

She laughed, and added, “He wants me to ask you something, Freddie. He would like very much to have you go trick or treating
with him tomorrow night.”

Freddie’s jaw dropped. “I can’t! I mean — I’m going to a Halloween party — ” He stopped, wet his lips. His face was flushed.

Mrs. Rose’s smile faded slightly. “Oh. You’re going to a party?”

“I — I was invited,” said Freddie.

Mrs. Rose’s smile returned quickly, but Freddie could tell it wasn’t real. “Then you keep your invitation,” she said. “Someone
else can take Jimmie. There’s Richard a few doors away from us. And Peter —”

“No, no!” Freddie interrupted. “I’ll go with him trick or treating. I don’t have to go to the party.”

“Don’t be silly, Freddie,” said Mrs. Rose. “You go to the party.”

She stood up, pulled her coat snugly over her shoulders, and started toward the door.

“Don’t worry about it, Freddie.” Her smile still didn’t look real. “You have accepted the invitation to the party. It’s only
fair that you keep it.”

Just then somebody turned the knob of the door on the outside. The door opened, and in came Jimmie. A smile a mile wide was
on his face as he looked up at his mother and then at Freddie. His big blue eyes sparkled brightly.

“Hi, everybody!” he cried. “Hi, Freddie! Going trick or treating with me tomorrow night?”

Freddie stared at Jimmie and nodded. “Sure, Jimmie! Sure, I’ll go with you!”

But his mind was crying out to him — What will Dick say? And what about the next game, and the next? He probably won’t let
me carry the ball again. But look at Jimmie. That little guy looks up to me! I can’t refuse him!

“Thanks, Freddie!” said Jimmie, his eyes bright as stars. “I told Mom you would!”

“Jimmie,” Mrs. Rose said softly, “Freddie can’t take you tomorrow night. He’s been invited to a Halloween party.”

The brightness disappeared from Jimmie’s eyes. Disappointment came over his face. “But he just said —”

“He wants to be nice to you,” Mrs. Rose said. She took Jimmie’s hand and opened the door. “Come
on, Jimmie. And don’t feel bad about it. Freddie didn’t know you wanted him to go trick or treating with you, or he wouldn’t
have promised to go to that party.”

“But Mrs. Rose!” pleaded Freddie. “I said I’d go with him!”

She smiled. “I know, Freddie. But please don’t let this worry you. I’ll find someone for Jimmie. Good night, now. Good night,
Mary.”

The door closed behind them, and Freddie turned around and looked at his mom. A smile tugged at her lips, and she shrugged.

“You do what you like, Freddie,” she said.

The next night, he dressed in his pirate’s costume, put on his mask, and went over to Jimmie’s house. He rang the bell. Mrs.
Rose answered the door.

“Hello, Mrs. Rose,” said Freddie. His lips spread in a smile below his mask. “I came to take Jimmie trick or treating.”

Her eyes widened. She stared at Freddie and at his costume. For a long minute she acted as if she didn’t know just what to
say.

Then Jimmie came running forward. He ducked under his mom’s arm and cracked a big smile at Freddie.

“Hey! A pirate!” he cried. “Are you trick or treating?”

“I’m Freddie,” said Freddie. ≴I’ve come to take you trick or treating. Don’t you have a costume?”

“Freddie?” Jimmie’s face brightened like a jack-o’-lantern. “You bet I do! I’ll be in it in no time!”

Mrs. Rose invited Freddie into the house. It didn’t take long for Jimmie to dress in his costume, a black cat suit with whiskers,
pointed ears, and a long tail. Mrs. Rose gave him a paper sack, and together he and Freddie went out the door and down the
street.

They stopped at each house, and Freddie let Jimmie either knock or press the doorbell. “Trick or treat!” Jimmie would say,
and whoever answered would almost always have something ready to put into the sack. A candy bar, pieces of caramel, packages
of nuts or jelly beans.

“Thank you!” Jimmie would reply.

He’s really enjoying this, thought Freddie. I guess I did the right thing by coming with him.

Finally they came to a house Freddie recognized immediately. It was big and white, with a hedge along the walk and tall lilac
bushes guarding the front porch steps. This was where Dick Connors lived. Freddie saw figures in costume passing back and
forth in front of the lighted windows.

“Let’s not stop here, Jimmie,” said Freddie hastily. “They seem to have a lot of company.”

“That’s all right!” said Jimmie. “Let’s go anyway!”

Freddie laughed at Jimmie’s spunkiness, shook his head, and followed the little boy up the steps to the front door. Jimmie
pressed a button. Soon the door opened and a boy in a tiger’s costume looked out at them.

“Trick or treat!” said Jimmie.

“Well, look at this!” the boy said, and pulled the door open wider. “Come on in and join our party!”

Freddie recognized that voice instantly. The boy was Dick Connors.

Jimmie stepped inside. Freddie followed him. The room was filled with boys and girls in costume. They all had their masks
on their faces so that it was practically impossible to tell who they were.

Some of them began putting fruit and candy into Jimmie’s sack. Somebody in a white rabbit’s costume put a colored paper hat
on Jimmie’s head, and somebody else tied a blue ribbon around the end of his tail. They were having a good time, and Jimmie
was laughing happily with them.

Then a tall boy stepped in front of Freddie. He wore a funny mask that completely covered his face and muffled his voice when
he spoke.

“You look familiar,” he said. Then, before Freddie could protect himself, the boy lifted his mask.

“Well, look who we have here!” He suddenly let go of the mask. It snapped back against Freddie’s forehead.

Freddie, stunned and angry, yanked his mask back down over his eyes and went to the door. “Come on, Jimmie!” he said. “Let’s
get out of here!”

“You shouldn’t have done that!” Dick Connors snapped at the boy who had lifted Freddie’s mask. “Look what you did. You hurt
him. How would you like to have somebody do that to you?”

“Okay,” the boy answered. “I’m sorry. He didn’t have to get mad about it.”

Freddie and Jimmie left quickly.

Freddie could make only a guess, but he had a good idea who that boy was who had lifted his mask.

Mert McGuire. His own cousin.

At eleven o’clock the next morning, on the A field, the Sandpipers kicked off to the Bluejays. At the same time, on the B
field, the Flamingos kicked off to the Cardinals. Until today the Cardinals had won two games and lost one; the Sandpipers
had lost two and tied one. They had yet to win a game.

Like small armies, the Sandpipers and the Bluejays rushed at each other. The Sandpipers were in canary yellow, the Bluejays
in powder blue.

The Bluejays’ flashy fullback, Art Neeley, caught the kick and ran it back to his twenty-two.

Freddie waited for Ted Butler, or somebody, to come in and take his place in the linebacker slot. But no one rushed in from
the Sandpipers’ bench. At last he was being given another chance on defense!

The Bluejays hurried out of their huddle. With a wingback playing a few feet behind and to the right of their right end, the
Bluejays’ quarterback began snapping signals.

“Down! Set! One! Two!”

The quarterback took the snap. He hurried back and handed off to Art Neeley. The Sandpipers’ line broke through. Freddie sidestepped
a husky tackle and rushed through a hole after Neeley. But Neeley was sweeping around his right end, the ball tucked under
his arm.

He plunged past Joey Mills and crossed the line of scrimmage. It looked as if he was really on his way. Dave Summers, one
of the fastest linemen on the team, raced after him. He caught Neeley’s arm. Neeley tried to get away. Bucky Jensen rushed
forward and tackled him.

The Bluejays had gained twelve yards on the play. Once again it was first down for them.

The ball was on their thirty-four-yard line. Again Neeley carried the ball. This time he plunged through left tackle — directly
toward Freddie.

For a fraction of a second, panic overcame Freddie. Art Neeley was coming
toward
him — he
wasn’t running
away
from him, not like that boy who had taken little Jimmie’s cards. This was different.

He had to stop Neeley. He couldn’t let him get by.

Right tackle Steve Cook grabbed Neeley, who shook himself loose and looked directly into Freddie’s eyes. A grin came over
his lips, as if he were defying Freddie. He pushed out his right hand. Quick as lightning, Freddie ducked and wrapped his
arms around the fullback’s knees.

Neeley went down!

The players piled on Neeley and Freddie. The referee’s whistle shrilled, and the players unpiled. Freddie and Neeley were
the last to get up.

He met Neeley’s eyes again. This time there was a sort of respectful look in Neeley’s gaze. He had gained only two yards.

On the second down, the Bluejays tried a crisscross buck. The quarterback faked to the left halfback, then handed the ball
to the right halfback. The halfback plunged toward the hole in the right side of the Sandpipers’ line.

Freddie and Harry Lott hit him, tackling him a yard behind scrimmage.

Both Freddie and Harry rose, smiling at each other.

“Way to go, Freddie!” Dick Connors said. “You’re doing it now!”

The Bluejays gained three yards on the next play. They punted on the fourth.

Bucky Jensen caught the ball on his thirty and carried it to the thirty-six.

“Twelve pass,” said Dick in the huddle.

Twelve meant that Dick was to pass to Bucky. They tried it, but Neeley knocked down the ball. Neeley seemed to be everywhere.

Dennis plowed through tackle for a seven-yard gain, and Freddie flashed around right end for six more yards and a first down.

The Sandpipers began moving, pushing the ball closer and closer toward the Bluejays’ goal line.

Then, on a double reverse, Dick handed off to Bucky and Bucky to Freddie.

Freddie fumbled! A Bluejay fell on the ball, and the Sandpipers’ chances to score a touchdown vanished.

For a while the Sandpipers’ spirits sank. Their shoulders and chins sagged. Dick slapped his helmet against his side disgustedly
and shot a dark look out of the corner of his eye at Freddie.

Freddie felt the others glare at him, too. He couldn’t blame them. It was his fault, and he wished that Coach Sears would
take him out.

That double reverse was a good surprise play. It could have worked fine. With only thirteen yards to go for a goal, the Sandpipers
might have scored a touchdown.

The Bluejays hustled to the scrimmage line, and Freddie trotted to his linebacker spot. Apparently Coach Sears wanted him
to remain in there.

The Bluejays tried an end-around run. It worked for an eight-yard gain. Then a halfback plunged
through tackle, and it was Freddie who brought him down. The Bluejays made first down on their next play, and the quarter
ended. The teams switched goals.

Twice the Bluejays made first downs, gaining ground on passes and line bucks. Then they lost ground on a five-yard penalty
charge; one of their players was offside. They couldn’t regain the loss, and the ball went to the Sandpipers.

The Sandpipers moved forward slowly. Then Dick shot a quick pass to Joey Mills. But it wasn’t Joey who caught the ball. Swift
as a bird, Art Neeley swooped in, intercepted it, and went all the way for a touchdown!

Then he scored the extra point.

Freddie could hear the Bluejay fans cheering from the sidelines and the bleachers. Cheering for Art Neeley.

The Bluejays kicked off to the Sandpipers. And now the Sandpipers tried to hold on to the ball, tried hard to gain those ten
yards in order to keep going. Freddie’s runs through tackle and around the ends, and Dennis Yates’s hard plunges, were bringing
them closer to the Bluejays’ end zone. Not even
two offside penalties dimmed the Sandpipers’ hopes.

Then Dick fumbled a snap from center, and a Bluejay pounced on the ball!

That did it!

The Bluejays tried pushing the ball the other way. On their own thirty-five, Harry Lott was charged for holding, which gave
the Bluejays fifteen more yards.

Freddie shook his head unhappily. It would be like Harry to do such a thing.

The Bluejays tried a surprise play. The quarterback handed off to Art Neeley. Art started running toward the side, then quickly
shot a pass. But the Sandpiper safety got under the wobbling ball, caught it, and sprinted down the field!