“Lucky for us you did. It was an accident that might have counted heavily against us. What was the matter with you, Sam, in passing the ball?”
“Aw, it wasn’t my fault. It slipped. Anyhow our full-back had his hands on it, and he dropped it.”
“I did not!” declared that player. “You didn’t pass it to me fairly.”
“That’ll do!” interrupted the captain sharply. “We don’t want any quarrels. Besides, we won the game.”
Tom was surrounded by a joyous crowd of his chums, and other admirers, as the team raced from the field, and the throng of spectators filed out of the stands.
“Well, how do you feel?” asked Jack of his chum, as they were in their room together, after a refreshing bath in the gymnasium.
“Great! I expect I’ll be a little lame and stiff tomorrow though. Somebody gave me a beaut dig in the ribs.”
“And I guess our whole team, and half of the other one, was piled on me at one stage of the game,” remarked Jack ruefully, as he rubbed his back reflectively. “But it was a glorious win all right. And how you did run, Tom!”
“I just had to, to make that touchdown.” And then the two boys fell to talking of the game, playing it all over again in detail.
“I just thought Sam would be mean enough not to give you a chance,” remarked Jack.