When Bentley had departed, Don entered the house, intending to go directly to his own room and change his clothes, after taking a bath. He had reached the foot of the stairs when his father called to him from his office, the door of which was standing open.
Don paused, a sudden thought assailing him and giving him a shock. He remembered now that his father had returned shortly before the appearance of Leon and, without doubt, he had been in his office at the time the two boys were forming their compact beneath the apple-tree. If so, he had overheard all that passed between them, as, earlier in the day, he overheard his son’s talk with Danny Chatterton, in which case he must be aware that Don had given way to a burst of anger, for all of the promise to try to restrain and govern his temper.
But that was not all. Despite himself, Don could not help feeling that there was something censurable, almost reprehensible, in his compact with Leon Bentley, formed for the purpose of working injury to a lad whom they hated. For this reason, his face flushed and he was seized by a sudden dread of his father’s kindly yet searching eyes.
“Don!” again called that voice.
“Yes, father,” he answered.
“Come here a minute. I wish to speak with you.”
The boy felt like running away, but he summoned his courage and entered the room which served Dr. Scott as an office.
The gentleman was sitting at his desk close by the window, which was screened and curtained.
“Sit down,” said the doctor, motioning toward a chair.
“I’ll stand, if you please, father,” said Don. “I am in my football suit, which I wish to change as soon as possible, for I’m rather sweaty.”
“Then you changed your mind about not playing on the eleven? I’m glad you did so, for I like to see my son interested in the honest and manly sports which interest other boys of the village.”
Don was silent.
“Football is a rather vigorous game, to say the least,” smiled Dr. Scott, gently. “Some say it is rough and brutal, but, if played strictly according to the present rules, it is hardly brutal, and it develops in the player alertness, decision, resolution and courage, qualities of paramount value to every man who would rise in the world above the common level of humanity.”
But for the dread of what he anticipated was to follow, Don himself might have smiled, thinking as he did how few fathers regarded thus favorably the game in question.
“I have taken pains to investigate this matter,” the doctor went on, “for I have noted the outcry against football coming from various quarters, and I wished to determine if it is a game suitable for my son. Baseball meets my hearty approval, although a clean, healthy sport like that may be carried to excess, and even amateur players should be properly trained and hardened so that no evil effects may follow the exertions of the game, which call for sharp runs, straining, jumping, and so forth. In baseball it occasionally happens that a player is severely or seriously injured, but the timid lad who avoids the game because of this is pretty sure to lack courage to fight the battle of life to a successful consummation.”
The waiting lad wondered that his father should say all this, for it had been understood between them that baseball was a game in which Don might indulge to his full inclination, as long as he did not permit it to interfere with his studies or other duties.
“Having taken pains to investigate the records in regard to football,” continued the doctor, “I have found that there are a large number of accidents in connection with the game, but I have also found that these accidents and injuries generally fall to the lot of the untrained and unprepared. A race horse cannot be kept in running condition unless he receives proper grooming, diet and exercise. Every day it must be ‘let out’ for speed, but judgment must be used to work it up to a proper condition for the great test of the race, when every nerve must be strained in order to win. Almost any horse could be ruined by putting it into a single race without proper training. Yet some young men are foolish enough to fancy they can go into a game of football without preparation and exert themselves with impunity to their very utmost, running, kicking, pushing and tackling. Every boy or man who does such a thing takes his life in his hands. If he is not killed, he stands a good chance to be injured for life. And it is these unprepared and foolish persons who receive the most of the injuries. Some lads should never play football, being physically unfitted for such a game; but, with proper training and preparation in all cases, I believe accidents and injuries may be diminished one-half, at least.
“Now, my son, I am telling you this because I have observed that you are inclined to be careless. You are impulsive, and you would not hesitate to take part in a match game of football utterly without proper training and preparation. Not only that, but, having taken part in practice that exerts you and covers your body with perspiration, you are careless of your health. As soon as possible after leaving the field, you should have removed your clothes, which were damp with perspiration, taken a bath and a rub-down and donned dry clothes. Instead of that, you lay down on the ground out there beneath that apple-tree, where you spent considerable time talking to another boy.”
“But, father,” said Don, seeking an excuse to get away, “you are keeping me from my bath now.”
“If you are to take cold this time, the injury is done already. I chose to talk to you right now, while the matter was on my mind. Had I put it off, I might have forgotten all about it. With proper care, Don, there is little danger that you will take cold, even though you exercise, practice and play football in any and all kinds of weather. It is neglect after such efforts that works the injury. In the future I wish you to be careful, just as I wish you to go ahead and take an active interest in making the Rockspur Eleven a strong country team. If possible, I shall take pains to witness one or two of the games, and I hope to see you doing your level best on the team.”
It was on Don’s lips to tell his father that he was no longer a member of the Rockspur Eleven, but, seeing the doctor scrutinizing him closely and realizing that he must make an explanation in regard to his withdrawal from the team, which meant a full confession concerning his loss of temper on the field, he hesitated and was silent.
Apparently, Dr. Scott had paused to give his son a chance to speak if he wished, and there was something like a look of disappointment on his fine face when Don failed to say anything. At least, Don fancied that his father looked disappointed.
“In order to become a successful football player, Don,” said the doctor, breaking his silence when he saw the boy did not intend to speak, “you must receive instructions from those who know more about the game than you do, and you must take pains to follow the instructions as fully and faithfully as possible. A good soldier obeys his commander implicitly, without question or rebellion. A good football player should be as obedient as a good soldier. On the field, in practice and in play, you must let yourself be governed by your superiors, even though at times you find it necessity to hold yourself hard to keep from rebelling or from doing things the way you, yourself, fancy they should be done. No successful organization ever existed that did not have a commander who was obeyed, and the best commanders are those who have themselves learned well the lesson of exact and faithful obedience. If you ever expect or hope to rule others, my son, first learn the lesson of obedience and learn to rule your own disposition.”
Don’s face was flushed now, for, although his father had not referred to it directly, he felt that the open window had betrayed the exact condition of affairs. The doctor had chosen this indirect method of reproving his son for permitting himself to be ruled by his anger.
“That’s all I have to say,” concluded Dr. Scott, “with the exception of one thing: Shun evil companions. Better no friends than the friendship of the bad and vicious. Any boy who seeks revenge on another in a secret, underhand manner is vicious, and his companionship will prove degrading. Now get your bath, my boy, and change your clothes.”
Don was relieved to escape from his father’s presence, for his cheeks were burning and his ears tingling.