on man. The detective jumped, sort
of, and looked surprised and mighty interested.

"'By George!' says he. 'I never thought of that.' Then he run to the
edge of the piazza and called.

"'Mr. Parker!' he sings out. 'Oh, Mr. Parker!'

"Parker was at the top of the little rise that slopes away down to the
landin'. The rest of the eleven was scattered from the shore to the
hotel steps. He turns, without stoppin', and answers.

"'What is it?' he sings out, kind of impatient.

"'There's just one thing we forgot to look at,' shouts Snow. 'Merely a
matter of form, but just bring that--Hey! Stop him! Stop him!'

"For Parker, instead of comin' back, had turned and was leggin' it for
the launch as fast as he could, and that was some.

"'Stop!' roars the Pinkerton man, jumpin' down the steps. 'Stop, or--'

"'Hold him, Jim!' screeched Parker, over his shoulder. One of the
biggest men on the eleven--one of the three 'friends' who'd been so
obligin' as to come down on purpose to play football--made a dive,
caught the detective around the waist, and threw him flat.

"'Go on, Ed!' he shouts. 'I've got him, all right.'

"Ed--meanin' Parker--was goin' on, and goin' fast. All hands seemed
to be frozen stiff, me and Jonadab and Peter T. included. As for me, I
couldn't make head nor tail of the doin's; things was comin' too quick
for MY understandin'.

"But there was one on that piazza who wa'n't froze. Fur from it! Willie,
the poet waiter, made a jump, swung his long legs over the porch-rail,
hit the ground, and took after that Parker man like a cat after a field
mouse.

"Run! I never see such runnin'! He fairly flashed across that lawn and
over the rise. Parker was almost to the landin'; two more jumps and he'd
been aboard the launch. If he'd once got aboard, a turn of the switch
and that electric craft would have had him out of danger in a shake. But
them two jumps was two too many. Willie riz off the ground like a flyin'
machine, turned his feet up and his head down, and lapped his arms
around Parker's knees. Down the pair of 'em went 'Ker-wallop!' and the
football flew out of Parker's arms.

"In an eyewink that poet was up, grabs the ball, and comes tearin' back
toward us.

"'Stop him!' shrieks Parker from astern.

"'Head him off! Tackle him!' bellers the big chap who was hangin' onto
the detective.

"They tell me that discipline and obeyin' orders is as much in football
as 'tis aboard ship. If that's so, every one o