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Literature for the Sports Nut

You may not realize it, but literature is packed with references to football and sports. This can occur in the most unlikely places. We have searched much of today's literature and have found a large collection of books that are an enjoyable read and contain at least on reference to both football and sports. Even though you may not believe us, trust us each of the books in this list contains such a reference. Better yet, prove it to yourself and find the reference. Happy hunting!

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Fantasy Football Challenge presents
The Adventure Club Afloat

30 of 54

raising the dickens!" Wink glanced across the deck. Steve, his revolver laid on the floor beside him, was knotting a handkerchief about his hand with his teeth. "Hello!" exclaimed Wink. "Did they get you!" "No, it's only a piece of glass. It's bleeding a bit, that's all." Steve gave a final tug at the knot and seized his revolver again. "I wish they'd show themselves!" "They probably wish the same of us," laughed Wink. "How long does this keep up? I'm getting hungry!" "It keeps up until they give in," responded Steve determinedly. "Below there! Tell Ossie to start on the dinner." "Dinner!" exclaimed Ossie from the aft companion. "Suppose they plugged a bullet into the galley?" "Don't be an idiot," begged Steve impatiently. "You've got four inches of planking and a pile of rope and a refrigerator and a lot of other stuff between you and the bullets. Get busy and do your bit!" "All right, Steve. I'd forgotten about the refrigerator. But you can bet I'm not going to leave the door open!" This jest was rewarded with a laugh from the others as Ossie pushed his way past them and dived hurriedly across the deck to the forward companion way. "Pistols and coffee for twelve," he added as he disappeared. For several minutes there was no further sound or movement aboard the _Follow Me_. "They're probably fixing up the chap who got plugged," opined Wink cheerfully, as he watched the ports. "Wish we had a rifle, Steve. We could get them right through the hull, I guess." "Yes, and if we had a torpedo we could sink her," said Cas Temple from the hatch. "Suppose they've run out of cartridges, Steve?" "I don't believe so. I guess they don't think it's worth while wasting what they've got." A cheering aroma of coffee stole up from the galley and murmurs of satisfaction were heard. Perry, his forearm bandaged neatly and scientifically, crowded his way up the after companion. "Say, Steve, let me have a shot at them, will you?" he begged earnestly. "Just one, Steve, like a good fellow!" "How's the arm, Perry?" "Oh, all right, I guess. It hurts a little. Phil's got it so blamed tight that I can't close my fingers. Will you, Steve?" Steve was denied an answer by a sudden interruption from Wink. "She's moving, Steve!" he cried. "They've started her!" "But they're anchored!" exclaimed Joe. "They've cut the line. Probably reached through a port on the other side," said Steve, working quickly at the controls. "It's lucky we didn't have ours down, too!" The _Follow Me_, gathering headway, pushed for the channel, and the _Adventurer_ lunged forward with a mighty splashing of her screw, Steve bringing her head around as fast as he could. "How the dickens are they steering her, Harry?" he demanded, staring in puzzlement at the empty cockpit of the other craft. "There's an auxiliary wheel forward, in the stateroom. They're coming around, fellows. Get under cover! Steve, you'd better drop!" The others scuttled for the companion ways, and none too soon, for, as the _Follow Me_ swung around into the channel those behind her ports had a clean sweep of the _Adventurer's_ bridge deck and a fusillade of shots swept across the forty or fifty yards dividing the boats. Steve and Wink had dropped below the rail, while, in the cabins, the others were taking good care to crouch beneath the level of the ports. Some eight shots were fired, but, although several took effect on various parts of the bridge, the fact that the _Adventurer_ was now plunging around in a half-circle at a full twelve miles an hour and the other boat was running at top speed down the channel made accuracy impossible. Neither Steve nor Wink had a chance to reply until it was too late for their shots to be effective. By that time the two cruisers had straightened out on the course and the chase had begun. Harry Corwin was entrusted with Steve's revolver and, standing on the dining table set from locker to locker across the galley, he could thrust head and shoulders through the hatch. But the cockpit of the _Follow Me_ remained empty and the entrance to the cabin was closed. Wink, his revolver ready, had returned to his post and watched grimly while the _Adventurer_, her engine fairly humming, slowly wore down the distance that separated her from the enemy. "They're certainly getting some speed out of her," called Wink admiringly. The rest of the company had returned to the bridge and were watching eagerly. Tom Corwin, who had remained unaffected by the potting of the _Follow Me's_ hull, was fighting mad now because the thieves had lost the bow anchor, and sputtered wrathfully as he gazed over Steve's shoulder. "If I was Harry I'd put a bullet through that door," he muttered. "I wish someone would let me have a shot at them!" "You couldn't hit her at this distance, with the boats swinging," said Steve. "Wonder why it doesn't occur to them to cut away that tender. It's taking a mile off their speed." "Afraid of getting hit, I guess," replied Joe. "It doesn't seem to me that we're gaining very fast." "We're not, but we're gaining fast enough. Hello!" The _Follow Me_, having approached the end of the island, had turned her nose to port straight for the end of the beach. "How much does she draw, Tom?" "Two feet and a half; same as this." "And the chart shows two feet of water there at low tide!" exclaimed Steve. "And it's nearly dead low now, I guess. She's taking a chance, all right!" The channel ran straight ahead, close to the shore of the mainland, and if the _Follow Me's_ exploit proved successful she was due to increase her dwindling lead by a good mile unless the _Adventurer_ accepted the challenge and followed her example. For a minute Steve hesitated. Then: "If she can do it, we can," he muttered, and slowly turned the wheel, his eyes darting to the chart. "No depth shown here," he said. "Two feet further along. Then four and seven. If we can get to the point of sand there we're all right." They watched the _Follow Me_ breathlessly. She was dancing almost in the breakers now and for a long moment it seemed that she would surely pile herself on the spit that ran seaward from the end of the island. But she got by safely and the _Adventurer_ plunged after her. There were strained faces on the bridge deck then and Ossie was seen to lay a

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