After the practice game had started, and Dave had put through the most brilliant play that he had yet exhibited, the air rang with his name from hundreds of throats.
"That's the way!" grumbled Jetson. "It's all Darrin now! These idiots will forget that I was ever at Annapolis."
Jetson sulked about. After the rebuke he had received the day before from the head coach, he did not dare to carry his sulk so far as to go and un-tog without leave.
Towards the end of the first half of the practice game, a man on the second team was hurt enough to be retired, and Joyce was called.
"They might have given me a chance," quivered Jetson sulkily. "I'm a lot better player than the fool coach imagines. But, anyway, I suppose Darrin has turned the coach and Hepson against me. I owe Darrin for that one!"
Five minutes later another player of the second eleven was retired with an injured wrist.
"Howard!" called the coach briskly.
"Excused for to-day, sir," reported another player.
"Any one but me!" growled Jetson.
"Jetson!" sounded the head coach's heavy voice.