"Greg, Dave and Tom, you block him. Get through, Harry—-some way! Don't let 'em stop you."
It was three days later, and Dick & Co. were at work at their main task during this summer camping, which was to train hard and try to fit themselves for the football squad when high school should open again.
Hazelton came on, at racing speed. He ducked low, making a gallant effort. He nearly succeeded in getting through, but Tom's tackle brought him to ground just at the right moment.
"Now, try that over again," Prescott said.
So the work went on, vigorously, for another hour—-until all of the boys were tired out, hot and panting.
"That's the most grueling work I ever did in the same space of time," muttered Reade, mopping his face.
"Yes; it's the kind of work for which football calls," rejoined
Prescott, also mopping his face. "Dan, get up off the ground!"
"I'm hot," muttered Dalzell, "and I'm tired."
"Then rest on a campstool. Don't chill yourself by lying on the ground when you're so warm."
After a few seconds of contemplated mutiny, Danny Grin rose and found a seat on a stool.