The silence that reigned in the room was broken in a few minutes when Hawley opened the door and entered. His coming was greeted enthusiastically, and when he had accepted the invitation to be seated, he said quickly, "I can't stay, fellows."
"You never can nowadays, Hawley. Since you've been on the team you've shaken all your old friends."
"You'd shake too, if you had the captain over you that we have."
"Is he hard?"
"Hard? He beats every coach we've got. He goes into the game as if there wasn't anything else to think of."
"It counts though," responded Will emphatically. "We haven't lost but two games so far this season, and they were with —— and ——. Of course we couldn't expect to win those."
"Oh, we've done fairly well. But the hardest rub is coming next Saturday. That's when we're going down to the city to have our game with Alden. There'll be a big crowd out, and the Alden alumni are mighty strong around town there too, and they'll be out in bunches. We've got to keep up our end, and that's why I've come over to see you fellows. I want you both to go next Saturday."
"Sure!" shouted Will, leaping to his feet. "We'll be on hand. You rest your soul easy about that."
"How many are going, Hawley?" inquired Foster quietly.
"So far, about half the college have agreed to go. We'd like to get another hundred to go along. It will make a big difference to the team. Last year there were six thousand people on the grounds, and it rained hard too, all the time. This year, if we have a good day, there'll be ten thousand on hand anyway."