There were not more than six or seven of these, and the scoutmaster's instructions were so clear and explicit that Dale wondered, with a touch of chagrin, how he could possibly have bungled so on the night of the meeting. In less than half an hour he had the different evolutions fixed firmly in his mind and the cane was laid aside.
"You'd better run through them every night for ten minutes or so until they come intuitively, without your having to stop and think," advised the scoutmaster. "The main thing is to put snap and ginger into it, so that the whole line moves as one. How did the football go? You were out, weren't you?"
"Yes, sir," the boy answered, his eyes lighting. "It was dandy! It's a crackerjack team, all right, and we're going to work like sixty to get that pennant."
"That's the idea!" smiled Mr. Curtis. He had returned to his chair, but the boy remained standing beside the table. "It will mean work to take the game from Troop One; they've a corking team, you know. But I think if-- Won't you sit down again, or have you lessons to get?"
Dale hesitated. The pleasant room with its glinting fire was very tempting. He had glimpsed a number of interesting-looking old weapons and pieces of Indian beadwork, too, on the walls or arranged along the tops of the bookcases, which he would like to examine more closely. But, on the other hand, eight waiting problems in algebra and some stiff pages of grammar loomed up to dissuade him.
"Thank you very much, sir, but I guess I'd better not to-night," he finally decided. "I haven't anything done yet for to-morrow."
"You must come again, then," smiled the scoutmaster. "I'm always glad to have you boys drop in, even when you haven't anything special to talk over. Good night; and good luck with the football. I may see you at practice to-morrow."
Dale found it hard to wait for that moment. He was devoted to football, and he had not really played in almost a year. Small wonder, therefore, that he looked forward eagerly to even humdrum practice. He did not propose to stay on the scrub if hard work and constant effort could lift him to something better. But even if he failed of advancement, he loved the game enough for its own sake to give to it unceasingly the best that was in him.