"We'll take the north goal. You fellows can kick off!"
"All right," spoke Dick and he tried not to show the little disappointment in his voice. "Then as it's all settled we can get to practice."
Dick had hoped to get possession of the ball immediately after the kick off and by a series of whirlwind rushes demoralize his opponents. Now he would have to change his plans.
"Well, we'll see how we can hold them," he said to Paul, as they went over to their side of the field to run through some plays.
There was fast, snappy, preliminary work. Dick paused once or twice to observe his opponents.
"No sign of them going stale," he reflected.
The hour for play had come. The officials had settled all the details. The new ball had been blown up, and the cover laced tightly. Carrying it in his hand the referee advanced to the centre of the field and handed it to Dick.
"Are you ready?" the official asked.
The young millionaire nodded.
"Line up!" called the referee as Dick handed the ball to Innis Beeby to kick off.