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“They aren’t here. Burton went to Iowa City for the game. No one else showed up. You can go home if you want. I just want to wait awhile.”

“Go home, nothing,” said Granddaddy. “Get out on that field and show me what you’ve got.”

“But we don’t have a ball,” said Ned.

“Huh,” said Granddaddy. He combed his mustache with his fingers.

“Want me to take you home, Ike?” said Mr. Jackson.

“No,” said Granddaddy. “I’ll wait here. We can run plays. You can go on if you want.”

“I’ll stay,” said Mr. Jackson.

“I’ll stay, too,” said Mr. Leek. They helped Granddaddy out of the car. Mr. Jackson took a blanket out of his trunk and laid it on the ground. He looked at the blanket and back at Granddaddy.

“Maybe you better sit in the car,” he said.

“Sure, sure,” said Granddaddy. “Put me in the driving spot so I can see. Just leave the door open. Best seat in the house.

“OK, boys, and Tugs and Aggie,” he said once he was settled. “Show us what you’ve got.”

“I . . . we . . .” Ned started. Why were they all looking at him for direction? He started again. “Well, there’s the Ike. We could show them that.”

“Sure,” said Ralph. “How does that go again?”

Ned got a stick. He went to a patch where the grass had worn off, and drew the play out and explained it again. Then they got into formation and ran, pretending to throw a ball.

“Fine! Fine!” said Granddaddy. Mr. Jackson and Mr. Leek clapped. “Show us another!”

They ran the Lester. They ran each of their plays three times over.

Ned looked over at Granddaddy. He was listing. His eyes were drooping.

“That’s all, fellows,” Ned said. “We’ll get Burton and Clyde next Saturday. They’ll be sorry.”

Mr. Leek and Mr. Jackson helped Granddaddy into the backseat. “Hop on in, Ned. We’ll take you home.”

“See?” said Granddaddy as they waved to Tugs and Aggie, who set out on foot. “What has old Burton Ward got that you don’t have?”

Ned slumped in his seat. “Lester’s football,” he said.

Ned had planned on giving Burton the business after school. They all had license to call him chicken now that he’d failed to show for their game. But Burton wasn’t on the back lot after school. Clyde and his fellows were milling around without a football.

Ned and the others ran to their side of the field. They practiced a couple of plays, but when Burton still hadn’t arrived and his team still wasn’t playing, they walked over.

“Bawk, bawk, bawk,” Paul started chanting softly.

“Bawk, bawk, bawk.” Mel and Franklin joined in, then Ralph and Ned and the rest, until they were one big clutch of chickens. They tucked their hands into their armpits and flapped their elbows.

“Looks like we’re going to win the challenge,” said Ralph. “These chickens were no-shows.”

“Knock it off,” said Clyde. “There is no challenge.”

“Sure there is,” said Ned. “Don’t think you’re getting off that easy.”

“Lester’s football is gone. Burton didn’t even get to go to the game.”

“What do you mean, Lester’s ball is gone? Burton didn’t go to the game? What happened?”

“You ought to know, Ned,” said Clyde. “Come on, boys, let’s go.”

“How would I know?” said Ned. Then it hit him. Ned had taken Lester’s football once, but that was before. He was going to win it fair and square this time. But if the ball was missing, would anyone believe him?

“I guess we have the whole field, then,” said Franklin. “Uh, Ned, if you do have the ball, you could bring it out now. Is it over at Mr. Lewis’s?”

“Good work, Ned!” Paul said. “Is it ours now? Why didn’t you bring it? How did you get it?”

“I didn’t take it, Paul! I don’t have Lester’s football. Wouldn’t I have brought it Saturday if I did? He said Burton didn’t go to the game. Something must have happened. Come on, Ralph. G.O. will know. Let’s go find him.”

The most likely place to find G.O. after school was at the pool hall. The boys ran all the way there, but hesitated outside the door.

“I can’t go in,” said Ned. “Mr. Carl will remember me.” They stood against the side of the building. “Besides, you said you’ve been in before. All you have to do is run in and holler for G.O. and run out.”

“But I . . . right,” said Ralph. “Sure. If you’re chicken.”

Ned peered around the corner as Ralph walked to the door, hesitated, then pushed it open and disappeared. He watched for a few minutes, then leaned his head back against the bricks. If he didn’t have Lester’s football, and Burton didn’t have it, where could it be? It seemed as though Ralph had been gone for hours.

Finally, he came back with G.O.

“I just talked to Luther in there,” G.O. said. “He says Burton was at Liberty Park Saturday morning, feeling pretty full of himself for being Lester’s brother, trying to talk Luther and William into gambling on the Hawkeye game.

“Mr. Ward came looking for Burton and found him in the park with the money out and gave him a whap right there in the park. Told him he could not go to the game, he’d have to wait at his aunt’s. Luther says Burton was bawling like a baby. Said he
had
to see Lester. They couldn’t keep him from Lester. But nothing doing. And now he can’t find that ball. Burton says he had it with him at the park and forgot it there, but Luther says he didn’t have it by the time he saw them. Burton’s dad is making him work at the store every day now, says it will teach him to be responsible.”

Ralph whistled. “He’s not just a chicken. He’s a baby chicken.”

“Bawk,” said Ned weakly.

The next morning Ned slipped into his seat just as Mrs. Kelley started morning announcements.

“On a serious note,” she said, “the seventh grade had a visit from Mr. Ward this morning. It seems that Lester’s football has gone missing. This is a valuable piece of family property and should be returned immediately. If someone is found to have the ball without turning it in, Mr. Ward may press charges.”

Ned looked up. Hadn’t Burton just lost it? And what happened to responsibility? Press charges? He felt as though the word
THIEF
were tattooed across his forehead, like the man at the midway last summer at the fair who had
FALSE
tattooed across his.

“Now,” continued Mrs. Kelley, “Mr. Ward isn’t accusing anyone. But since football seems to be awfully popular with the boys at school, he wants to know if anyone has information, so word is being passed down the grades.”

“Ned did take the ball that one time. . . .” offered Johnny. “And I heard he stole Miss Thompson’s purse.”

“No one is being accused,” said Mrs. Kelley. “I’m just repeating what Mr. Ward asked me to announce. Now, we have a busy day. That’s enough about football. If you know anything about it, just talk to Burton or Mr. Ward or myself.”

Class started but Ned couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t even mouth the words to the Pledge of Allegiance correctly. He kept mixing it up with the Lord’s Prayer in his mind. “Deliver us from evil,” he said, instead of “One nation, indivisible.”

The spit in his mouth felt like glue, but he didn’t want to risk walking to the fountain and having to pass Johnny or any of the other fellows who suspected him. The Rowdies must have taken it. That was the only explanation. And in that case he was doomed. Luther Tingvold would have his liver if he pointed suspicion in his direction. No, Burton would tell Mr. Ward about the Ben Franklin incident, and Mr. Ward would come looking for him. He would be thrown in jail.

Finally, when he could stand it no more, Ned took the bathroom pass and slipped out the door, down the steps, across the lawn, across the street, and up the four blocks to his own street. Granddaddy Ike would know what to do.

He stopped at the corner and stood behind an elm. Mr. Jackson was sitting on Granddaddy’s porch. Ned stayed behind the tree and watched. Granddaddy must have gone inside for his pipe. But Mr. Jackson just sat there like it was his own porch, and Granddaddy didn’t appear.

Ned turned to go back to school. He’d have to come back at lunchtime.

“Ned!”

Ned turned. Mr. Jackson had seen him and was beckoning him over.

Shoot. He’d have to go over there, or Mr. Jackson would keep on hollering. All he needed now was for his mother to look out the kitchen window and see him.

Ned shimmied over to the side of Granddaddy’s house and plastered himself against the wall where he would not be visible to his mother.

Mr. Jackson came over to the edge of the porch and peered around at him.

“Don’t let my mom see me,” Ned pleaded.

“Milo!” It was Granddaddy Ike through the window. “Is there a situation out there?”

“Stay calm,” called Mr. Jackson. “I got Ned here. I’ll bring him inside.”

“I can’t,” said Ned. “I’m supposed to be at school.”

“Well, we were waiting for you, anyhow. We have a surprise. Your mother’s walked downtown. I saw her leave. The coast is clear.”

Granddaddy was lying in bed even though it was the middle of the day. He had his glasses off. His arms looked thin on top of the quilt. Ned felt shy and stood back by the door.

“Come on in here,” said Mr. Jackson. “Over by Ike. We’ve got something for you.”

“Looky here, Ned,” said Granddaddy. “Look what we have for you! Give it to him, Milo.”

Mr. Jackson reached behind Granddaddy’s chair and pulled out a football.

“A football?” Ned gasped.
The
football. He reached out for it, but Mr. Jackson continued to hold it.

“Where did you —” Ned said.

Granddaddy jumped in. “Mr. Jackson was walking through Liberty Park early this morning.”

“Before the milkman!” said Mr. Jackson.

“He was on his way to —”

“Am I going to tell the story or are you?” said Mr. Jackson.

“He’s my grandson.”

“And I’m the one who found —”

“Found?” said Ned.

“Right there in Liberty Park. Next to an empty pack of Camels. Litter. I find that now and again, but a football. I says to myself, I says, ‘Who has been jabbering on about getting a football for a certain boy?’ Who could it be?”

“Me, of course,” said Granddaddy Ike, giving Mr. Jackson a weak slap on the back. “Me. I know you’ve been wanting a football something awful, Ned. And, well”— he patted his hands on top of the quilt —“looks like I came through for you.”

“With some help from me,” said Mr. Jackson. He handed the ball to Ned at last. Ned stared at it.

“He doesn’t look as excited as you said he would,” said Mr. Jackson.

“Buttons are not great showers of emotion,” said Granddaddy.

Ned sank into Granddaddy’s chair. It was all wrong.

“He’s just overwhelmed,” said Mr. Jackson. “Can’t say I blame him. Most boys would give their eyeteeth for a prize like that. ’Course it’s not new, but . . .”

Ned studied the ball, smoothed his hand all over it, fit his fingers to the laces. It was Lester’s all right, but could anyone else tell the difference? Lester had taken the ball out of Burton’s hands and handed it to him. He remembered Burton wiping his sleeve across his face when Lester left and what Luther had said about the day at Liberty Park. Burton would know.

“I can’t keep it,” said Ned.

“Now, Ned,” said Granddaddy. “I thought you —”