1922 Cedrus Yearbook

Prize Story By R. Walker Taylor Who Is the Hero? B ILL Smith and Dick Moreton were as thick as two peas in a pod. It was funny, too, because they had been hardly more than acquaintances during their first three years at school, and some of us couldn't quite understand their sudden friendship. We knew, though, that the Smiths and Moretons had spent the summer together in the mountains; so we supposed that Eill and Dick had just naturally be- come better acquainted up there. They were both good fellows, too. Bill was cap- tain of the Riverside football team and one of the best tackles we ever had; and Dick, president of the senior class, was probably the most popular boy in school. He wasn't any slouch of a football player, either; and if it hadn't been for Al Jenson, he would have been quarterback on the varsity. For three years he and Al had waged a battle royal, and it was almost a toss-up between them. As far as actual playing was concernedt Dick was probably a shade the better; but Al was one of those rare players who can inspire other fellows to play at top speed from the first whistle to the last. His fighting spirit and his ability to make a team fight gave him the call over Dick. Dick would have given a good deal for a regular place on the Riverside Varsity, but we didn't realize Just how much it meant to him until he told us about it one evening in the early fall when a bunch of us were gathered in his room. "It's this way," he said, "My Dad never went in for athletics when he was a kid, and now he's sort of crazy on the subject. He told me just before I came down that if I won out this year, he'd take me East with him when he goes there next sum- mer on a business trip. I suppose he thinks it will make me play harder." Dick smiled. "He doesn't know anything about school spirit and things like that," he added apologetically. "But just the same, I sure would like to go East with him." The rest of us nodded sympathetically, all but Bill, who sat looking out of the window, a curious light in his eyes. None of us thought anything about it just then; but when the season began and the battle between Al and Dick was renewed, it oc- curred to me that maybe that look on Bill's face had meant something, after all. For when the first scrimmage of the season was held, Dick started as quarter for the varsity and Al was on the scrubs. It didn't make much difference then; the first games on the schedule were easy ones, anyhow,and it wouldn't matter one way or the other if even a third class man directed the team. But in view of the sudden friendship between Bill and Dick, it looked just a little queer, especially since the captain had the final word in selecting the players on all Riverside teams, and the coach could only advise him. We played our first game with Dick at quarter. Although twenty out of the thirty points were made in the third quarter when Al went in, the play on the whole was satisfactory. If Dick had been obviously inferior to the other boy, we would have met and told Bill just what we thought of things; but Dick was really a mighty fine quarter, and a good many of the fellows in the school believed that he was Al's equal in both generalship and all-round ability. It was only the members of the team who under- stood thetrue situation. One of the strangest parts of it all was the fact that Dick was ignorant of any- thing unusual going on. He really thought that he was playing better football than Al and that he had made the team on merit alone. As the season progressed we won every game. The last game was with Glendale, 77