Football Fugitive Read Online Free Page B

was, didn’t it? Well, why couldn’t he be here in Glen Rose, a town where hardly anyone would know him?
    Just then the man lifted a hand, and his face broke into a smile. Larry, surprised,looked around, but saw no one else except Greg looking at the man.
    “It’s us he must be waving and smiling at!” Larry thought.
    Hesitant at first, he then quickly jerked up his hand and waved back. He saw the man nod, saw the smile broaden just a little.
    “He’s waving to
you,
Larry,” said Greg softly. “How about that?”
    “Larry! Greg!” Coach Ellis boomed. “If you guys are too tired to play maybe you’d like to sit this one out!”
    “Sorry, Coach,” said Larry, and socked Greg lightly on the shoulder. “C’mon, Greg. Let’s get with it.”
    They worked on pass plays and line plunges, Larry centering the ball for the offensive team. Then the coach switched the squads,
     putting Larry in the middle linebacker position with the first team.
    Larry couldn’t get the image of the guy in the brown jacket out of his mind. He was ninety-nine percent sure it was Yancey
     Foote, yet why would Yancey be watching
him
play? His concern was reflected in his workout. And Coach Tom Ellis noticed it.
    “Larry! You got lead in your feet? George got the ball and had faded back five yards before you had even
budged!”
    And another time, “Larry! On a line buck you charge in
after
the ball carrier, not wait for him to come to you!”
    “Sorry, Coach,” Larry said, embarrassed in front of all the guys.
    He heard Doug’s familiar, mocking chuckle. Somebody else picked it up, but a verbal blast from the coach ended it instantly.
    “Cut it out, you guys, and get back on theline!” he ordered firmly. “Let’s go through that play again! On three!”
    As the men hustled to the line of scrimmage, Larry glanced again toward the bleachers. But the man in the brown jacket was
     gone.

6
    T he helmets of the Moon City football team were royal blue, with a picture of the moon on them. Their blue satin, red-striped
     uniforms looked fresh out of a laundromat.
    It was Tuesday, October 7, and the Digits’ second game of the season. The sky was an ashen gray, with a golden circle in the
     spot where the sun was trying to shine through. It never made it.
    “Twenty-one! Twenty-four! Hike! Hike!”
    Larry, playing middle linebacker, a couple of yards behind Charlie Nobles and Joe Racino, plunged to the right the moment
     hesaw Walt Fregoni, Moon City’s quarterback, hand off to his fullback, Bruce Green. Bruce hugged the leather against him like
     a loaf of bread and came bolting through the left side of his line. A hole opened up only wide enough to slip a piece of cardboard
     through, but Bruce came on like a flying wedge, his knees pumping high, his rubber cleats clawing the dirt.
    Fear flashed through Larry and was gone almost as quickly as it had come. It was gone because Bruce was upon him before Larry
     could think about it.
    He wrapped his arms around Bruce and felt the impact of Bruce’s body at the same time. Down he went, his head smacking against
     the ground, Bruce on top of him, for a four-yard gain.
    Bruce pressed against Larry’s shoulders as he lifted himself to his feet. He was a tall kid and no lightweight. His dark eyes
     boredthrough the mask of his helmet into Larry’s, but his face was as blank as a plastic doll’s.
    He carried the ball again, this time making a wide sweep around his left end. Rick Baron was thrown a block; Billy James lost
     his footing and fell. It was up to Larry or the safety man to bring him down — or Bruce would go for a touchdown.
    Larry, legs pumping like pistons, reached Bruce, got hold of his right arm and went down to his knees. Bruce stopped, spun
     around, freed himself from Larry’s hold, and plunged ahead for eight more yards before Jack O’Leary grounded him.
    The run gave Moon City a first down.
    Jack got to his feet, giving Larry a cold, shriveling look.
    On the next play