Westby and Lawrence got to their feet together; Lawrence’s eyes were dancing with triumphant expectation; the ball was Harvard’s now on St. Timothy’s twenty-yard line. And Westby went dully to his position, aware of the accusing silence of the crowd.
“All right, Wes; we’ll stop them,” Collingwood said to him cheerfully.
Westby did his best and flung himself desperately into the thick of every scrimmage. The whole team did its best, but Harvard would not be denied. By short rushes they fought their way down, down, and at last across the goal line—and the game was won. There were only three minutes left to play, and in that time neither side scored.
When Mr. Barclay blew his whistle, the Harvard team assembled and cheered St. Timothy’s, and then St. Timothy’s assembled and cheered Harvard. After that the players walked to the athletic house, beset on the way by the curious or by friends.
Westby was the victim of condolences, well meant but ill-timed; he responded curtly when Blake, pushing near, said to him, “It was awfully hard luck, Wes—but after that you played a mighty good game.” He wished nothing but to be let alone, he wished no sympathy. He knew that he had lost the game; that was enough for him.
In the dressing-room he sat on a bench next to Lawrence Upton and began putting on his clothes in silence. The other boys were talking all round him, commenting cheerfully on the plays and on the future prospects of the teams.
Lawrence refrained from discussing the game at all; he asked Westby what St. Timothy’s boys he knew at Harvard, and where he expected to room when he went there; he tried to be friendly. But Westby repelled his efforts, answering in a sullen voice. At last Lawrence finished dressing; he picked up his bag and turned to Westby.
“Look here,” he said, and there was a twinkle in his eyes. “I’m going to be at Harvard the next three years; we’re likely to meet. Must a little hard luck make hard feeling?”
“Oh, there’s no hard feeling,” Westby assured him.
“Glad to hear it. Good-by.” Lawrence held out his hand.