"Indeed we did."
"And the next thing to do is to get into the Military League, and wipe out the unnecessary insult that Blue Hill handed to us, by giving them the worst drubbing they ever had."
"Sure," assented Paul.
There was quite a crowd of hero-worshippers outside the dressing rooms, waiting to get a sight of Dick and his men, and cheer them. Among the throng our hero espied a pretty face he knew, and straightway he made for it as well as he was able.
"Congratulations!" called Miss Hanford. "Oh, it was a glorious game! but I'm so sorry you were hurt."
"It's nothing," murmured Dick gamely, though as he spoke a spasm of pain shot through him.
There were not a few on the hospital list as a result of the Haskell-Kentfield game and in view of that, and the great work that had been done, practice was omitted for a few days. When it was resumed it was light, for there were several of the best players, besides the captain, to be considered, and good men were scarce.
On all sides among the various groups of cadets there was heard nothing but praise for Dick's team. Only one little crowd had anything unpleasant to say, and this was the faction headed by Porter.
"If Porter had played there wouldn't have been so many gains around left end," said one of the rich lad's cronies.
"That's right," added Weston. "Porter was our mainstay before he got put off by Hamilton's influence."