As they took their seats the door of the Armory opened and a squad of players trotted briskly onto the field. There was a restless movement of the crowd on the big stand and a few scattering cheers from the smaller stand opposite, but no organized yells.
“Is that one of the teams?” Scott asked anxiously.
“Yes,” Johnson answered, leaning eagerly forward to size each man up as he took his place.
“Why don’t they cheer them?” Scott asked in surprise.
“That’s the other team,” Johnson answered carelessly.
“I should think that would be all the more reason for cheering them,” Scott said.
Johnson turned a wondering look upon him, but was prevented from answering by a deafening yell from the whole stand in which they both joined heartily. Their own team had appeared.
“How’s that for yelling?” Johnson asked proudly.
“Rather discouraging for the other fellows,” Scott answered.
“Well, that’s what you want to do, isn’t it? Look there, they are lining up already.”