"Now, wouldn’t it kill you to death to have a fellow like him get a reputation!" he snarled. "He’d never made the team this year if Frank Merriwell hadn’t been coach."
"But he can play the game, can’t he?"
"He has devilish luck—or something," said Scudder. "I never saw anything like it. He gets all the chances."
"You said something about new plays Fardale has been learning in secret practise. Now, if you can tell me what those plays are, it will make us wise, and we’ll be ready for them."
"I’m sorry," confessed Uric; "but I haven’t been able to find out much about them. I thought I’d get onto them, all right, but I’ve had hard luck."
"Then you don’t know what they are?" asked Glennon, in disappointment.
"No."
"Well, what are you going to tell me?" growled the displeased Hudsonville chap. "What’s all the guff you gave me in the letter?"
"I’m going to tell you how to win the game," said Uric positively, "even though I can’t tell you the plays, as I hoped to do."
"Go ahead."