“There come Reeves and Sexton,” some one remarked, at last. “Wonder where they’ve been? Hullo, who’s that with them? By Jove, fellows, it’s Remington! He’s going to play, after all!”
A sudden galvanic shudder ran through the group. They watched Remington as he walked up to Blake, and strained their ears to catch his words.
“Captain Blake,” he said, “I’m ready to take Banker’s place—that is, if you want me.”
For an instant offended pride held Blake back. Then it melted away in a rush of surprise and joy. Even from where they stood, they could see his face light up.
“Want you, old man!” he said, and held out his hand. “I should say we do want you!”
One of the boys had his cap off and was waving it over his head.
“Now, fellows, three cheers for Remington!” he cried. “Are you ready? Hip—hip—”
There was a sudden rush of tears to Tommy’s eyes as that cheer floated to him across the field. How sweet it sounded with his name at the end! But Blake had no time for sentiment.
“Line up, men,” he called. “Hurry up. We’ve got some hard work ahead.”
His face lighted up with satisfaction as he saw the way the boys sprang into their places. It was the first time for days they had shown such enthusiasm. In a moment came the signal, and the scrimmage began. Tommy, recalling every bit of football he had ever learned, put his whole soul into the game. He was going to do his best to deserve that cheer. Blake gave them a long, hard practice, but when it was over his face was more cheerful than it had been for many days.