"Well, durn my hoofs! Talk about your wild horses! Whatever sort of springs have you got concealed in those legs of yours, Merriwell?"
Dick laughed, his face flushed more than ever, and turned back to Frank, demanding:
"Now, what do you think? Are you going to keep me out of the game because I lack energy?"
Frank shook his head, but his eyes could not entirely conceal his admiration for his brother’s feat.
"That’s no real proof," he said. "You’re all right to do that now, but you know it takes endurance to hold out through a game of football."
"If you keep me out of the game," came almost passionately from the lips of the boy, "I’ll never forgive you as long as I live! If I couldn’t play football, I wouldn’t stay in this old school another day!"
In his anxiety and excitement, Dick was saying things he did not really mean, which Merry well understood.
"We’ll talk it over later," said Merry. "Now, we’ll go through the drill I want the team to take this forenoon."
That drill consisted of making quick formations for mass-plays and interference, and in trying certain new plays which demanded prompt and concerted action in order to be effective.
No effort was made to teach any one anything further in the way of tackling, punting, kicking, or running with the ball. This was no time for that sort of practise. Indeed, Merriwell would not have called the team out at all on this forenoon had he felt confident that all were thoroughly familiar with the new plays he had planned.