In fact, even now, to impartial observers, it looked as though these six points on the score had been won by what was little better than a fluke.
"Gridley can't keep this up," remarked the Tottenville boosters confidently. "They'll lose their wind and nerve against our fine line before the game is much older."
The first half went out with score unchanged. But Captain Wadleigh did heave a sigh of relief when the time keeper cut in on that first half.
"Fellows, look out for the fine points," he warned his fellows, after they had trotted into quarters. "It'll be craft, not strong rush, that wins for us today, if anything does."
"Prescott's here. He and Darrin can put anything over in the line of craft," laughed Fred Ripley.
Ripley was in togs, but was not playing. He was on the sub line, today, awaiting a call in case any player of his team became disabled.
"Darrin and Prescott are all right," nodded Wadleigh gruffly. "But they have endurance limits, like other human beings. Don't rely too much upon any two or three men, fellows. Now, in the second half"—-here Wadleigh lowered his voice—-"I'm going to spare Prescott and Darrin all I can. So you other fellows look out for hard work."
Dick's eyes were still flashing. This was not from the fever of the game, but from the recollection of how narrowly he had escaped being tricked out of this chance to play today.
On his arrival, and while dressing before the game, Prescott had related to the team the mean trick that had been played upon him. He had also told how the case came out in court.
"Dodge and Bayliss are traitors to the school!" cried Purcell indignantly. "We'll have to give 'em the silence!"