"They're off. Great crowd. Winthrop line outweighed ten pounds to a man. Holding like a stone wall."
"That's the way to talk it!" shouted the reader as he handed the dispatch to the operator, and then began to sing one of the college songs, in which he was speedily joined by the noisy group.
The song was hushed when again the operator appeared and handed another slip to the leader. Glancing quickly at it the senior read aloud:"Ball on Alden's twenty-five yard line. Great run by Thomas. Hawley playing star game."
Hawley, Thomas, and the captain of the team, and then the team itself, were cheered, and once more the group of students gave vent to their feelings in a noisy song. It was all stimulating and interesting, and Will Phelps was so keenly alive to all that was occurring, that for the time even his disappointment in not being able to accompany the team was forgotten.
A groan followed the reading of the next dispatch. "Alden's ball on a fumble. Steadily forcing Winthrop line back by superior weight. Ball on Winthrop's forty-yard line."
"That looks bad," said Will's tutor, who had now joined the assembly and was standing beside Will Phelps. "We've a quick team, but I'm afraid of Alden's weight. They've two or three men who ought not to be permitted to play, anyway."
"Professionals?" inquired Will.
"Yes, or worse."
"Have we any on our team?"
"Hardly," laughed the senior. But Will was thinking of the conversation he had had with Hawley when they had first entered college, and was silent. Besides, another dispatch was about to be read and he was eager to hear.