"I guess so. Come on. Say, let a fellow up, will you?" begged Paul of those about him.
As they were worming their way up they heard another piece of news.
"Porter is off," remarked one lad.
"I thought he'd be," came from Jim Watkins. "He made two bad fumbles yesterday, and he isn't quick enough for an end."
"Can you see, Dick?" asked Paul, as he clung to the side of his companion. "Is your name there."
"I don't know yet—Hey, Frank, get your head out of my way for a second; will you?"
"Sure thing, Dick. Tough about Teddy; isn't it?"
"Yes, but don't worry. We'll have him back."
"I hope so."
"Now can you see?" implored Paul.