“Do you think this year would be a good one to play Dimsdale?” inquired a substitute, timidly. “They are Class A champions, you know, and they have a powerful team.”
“I wouldn’t care how big their team is,” declared halfback Barnes. “Just put me where I can rip holes in their line, that’s all!”
The coach looked at the boys silently for a time. “All right, boys,” he said. “I guess there is no harm in trying out Rhodes’ suggestion. Suppose you three veteran backfield men consider yourselves a committee and approach the colonel on the subject. Let’s see if we can get any action this year.”
That night Don consulted earnestly with Jim and the result was a letter which he wrote to his father. After that they waited, with the rest of the school, for the decision of the trustees.
What the young substitute had said about Dimsdale was true. They were at present occupying the exalted position of champions of the Class A divisions, and they boasted a powerful, line-smashing team. In one sense it was not a wise year to start playing the old rivals again, for the Woodcrest team was small and fast, but in no way compared with the other school as far as bulk of players was concerned. But the cadets were mad clean through and did not hesitate to take on the other school, in anticipation at least.
The colonel received the committee of three and expressed with them the desire of renewing relations with the preparatory school. He promised to take the matter up with his board of trustees and see what he could do with the one obstinate member.
“It is time that Mr. Gates got over his prejudice,” he admitted. “We’ll see what we can do.”
On the day of the trustee meeting Don received a letter from home and he and Jim read it over with satisfaction. Don nodded across the table to Jim as he finished it.
“I guess it won’t make any difference which way the meeting goes now,” he stated.
On the following day when the team finished their workout, the coach was not with them. He had gone into the school building to find out the result of the trustee meeting. The players stood around with sweaters and coats as protection against the sharp November wind. Before long they saw the coach come from the main hall and walk slowly toward them.