Several looked blankly at "Hen" Wadleigh.
"Whom have you to put in his place?" Grayson demanded hoarsely.
Drayne heard and it was balm to his soul. He started to pull off his football trousers.
Outside, the band started upon a lively gallop. The crowd began to cheer. It started in as a Gridley cheer. Then, above everything else, rang the Filmore yell of defiance.
Just at this moment Coach Morton strode into the room. Almost in a twinkling he learned of the new complication that had arisen.
"Captain Wadleigh, who is to play in Drayne's stead" demanded the coach rather briskly.
"Under certain conditions," broke in Wayne, "I'll agree to play."
"We wouldn't have you under all the conditions in the world!" retorted Mr. Morton. "A football eleven must be an organization of the finest discipline!"
Drayne reddened, then went deathly white. He hadn't intended to let the matter go this far.
"Who is your best man for left end, captain?" insisted Mr. Morton. "You've got to decide like a flash. Your men ought to be out in the air now."