"No, you didn't," Dick retorted. "You showed what all of us show—-that you need training to get into good shape. That's what the coach is working with us for."
"I'm betting on you and Dick for the team," put in Tom Reade, quickly.
"Dick will make it, and I think you will, too, Dave," added Harry
Hazelton.
"I wish I were as sure for myself," muttered Greg Holmes, plaintively.
"Oh, well, if I can't make the team," grinned Dan Dalzell, "I'm going to stop this work and go in training as a mascot."
"Look at the fellow who always carries Luck in his pocket!" gibed
Hazelton, good-humoredly.
Coach Luce was now calling off several names rapidly. These young men were directed to scatter on the gym. floor. To one of them Mr. Luce tossed the ball.
"Now, then," shot out Luce's voice, "this is for quick understanding and judgment. Whoever receives the ball will throw it without delay to anyone I name. So post yourselves on where each other man stands. I want fast work, and I want straight, accurate work. But no amount of speed will avail, unless the accuracy is there. And vice versa!"
For five minutes this was kept up, with a steam engine idea of rapidity of motion. Many were the fumbles. A good deal of laughter came from the sides of the gym.
"Myself!" shouted Luce, just as one of the players received the ball. The young man with the ball looked puzzled for an instant. Then, when too late to count, the young man understood and drove the ball for the coach.