“Yes, the boys did splendidly.”
“They did very well, but you—you were the one who really won the game.”
“In football every man is dependent on the others engaged in the game. Without their assistance he would be powerless to win.”
“Oh, if you put it that way, of course no fellow could stand up alone against eleven others and win a game. But that does not alter the fact that you were the one who won the game to-day. And I thought you badly hurt that time when I—when I made a sensation by running on to the field,” she finished, her face getting very red.
She was confused, and Dick’s heart beat a bit faster now. But she quickly found a way to make it appear that it was not purely from agitation over Dick that she hurried on to the gridiron.
“I was so afraid that meant failure for the team! When I saw you down and feared you would have to leave the field, I knew Fardale was in a bad scrape. Without a captain, she would have been defeated quickly.”
Dick knew well enough that it was more than fear for the result of the game that had caused her to rush pale and trembling across the field and kneel to lift his head while he lay helpless on the ground; but he pretended disappointment now, seeking to draw her out.
“I’m very sorry,” he said, watching her closely; “I fancied you were anxious on my account. I presume it was conceited of me to have such a thought.”
She looked him straight in the eyes.
“Doubtless my conduct was such that it gave you cause to think so,” she nodded, perfectly at ease.