"I was in hopes you could both show me where I'm weak."
"You're not weak," insisted Coach Morton.
"That throws me back on thinking hard for myself," muttered Darrin.
Where a weaker man would have been pleased with such direct praise Dave felt that he was not doing his duty because he had not been able to lead as brilliantly as Dick had done in earlier games.
"Brute strength isn't any good against these Hallam fellows," Darrin told himself, as he returned to the field. "They're all A-1 athletes. Even if Gridley played a slugging game, it wouldn't bear these Hallam boys down. As to speed and scientific points, they seem to be our masters. Whatever we do against them, it must be something seldom heard of on the gridiron something that will be so brand new that they can't get by it."
Yet twice in the half that followed Gridley barely escaped having to make a safety to save their goal line. Each time, however, Dave wriggled out of it.
When there were but seven minutes left neither team had scored.
Gridley now had the ball for snap-back at its own twenty-five-yard line.
The most that home boosters were hoping for now was that Gridley would be able to hold down the game to no score.
Dave had been thinking deeply. He had just found a chance to mutter orders swiftly.