“It’s hard on the jumpers. When the air is cold and heavy, you can’t put any force into your spring.”
“Weather doesn’t influence me as much as other conditions do,” said Varrell. “I find it a great deal easier to jump when there’s a big, eager crowd, and the excitement runs high.”
“You’ll have excitement enough, if that’s all you want,” said Dick, grimly. “This Hillbury team is coming up here to win. I happen to know that they’re counting on some of the very events that we’ve been reckoning as surely ours. If we beat Hillbury to-day, we shall have to make new records to do it.”
“Let’s have the new records, then, by all means,” said Varrell, looking across the table at the silent captain.
On the way to chapel Tompkins joined them. “Good speech you made last night, Jimmy,” said the pitcher, “better than anything I heard at the Prize Speaking.”
Dickinson nodded in acknowledgment of the compliment.
“You can’t fail us after that speech,” continued Tompkins. “I know a couple of fellows in Hillbury, and they brag of Ropes and Lary like an agent selling a gold mine. Don’t let them do you up.”
“They won’t unless they’re better men. If they are, we want them to win.”
“Not exactly,” returned Tompkins. “Let the best team win, of course, only make sure we don’t lose.”
Melvin snorted in ridicule. “You crazy cowboy! How can we help losing if the best team is Hillbury, and Hillbury wins? You don’t mean that we’re to beat them dishonestly?”