"Why,—er—somebody said he wasn't feeling well, that's all," stammered Nat Poole.
"He told me he was feeling bang-up."
"That so? Well, I'm glad to hear it," said Poole, weakly.
As a matter of fact Henshaw was feeling just a bit faint and dizzy, the drug not having had time to have its full effect. Luckily the lad was strong and with a good heart action, so he was bound to suffer less than had he been otherwise.
There was a cheer for the Oak Hall players and another cheer when the Rockville eleven appeared on the field. The practice of each team was snappy and vigorous and brought forth applause.
The umpire and the referee were college men, chosen by Mr. Dale and a teacher from Rockville, and the linesmen were others acceptable all around. The practice over, there was a five minutes' intermission.
"Dave and Babcock are not here yet," sighed Phil, "I declare, it's too bad! If we have many accidents on the field we'll be more than short-handed."
"They wouldn't stay away of their own accord," said Roger. "Something is wrong—I'm dead sure of it."
It had been decided that the two halves of the game should be of thirty minutes each, with an intermission of ten minutes. Roger, Phil, Ben, and Buster Beggs occupied the positions they had filled the season previous, and the others of the eleven were placed to the best advantage. The center and the right guard were a little weak, but this could not be helped. On the other hand, the Rockville eleven appeared to be exceptionally well balanced.
"Time to play!" cried Phil, presently, and the eleven at once took their positions. Then the Rockville men came on the field once more; and a minute later the great game started.