Professor Leland nodded. "I believe you are right, Cree. I've noticed a few of those points myself, but you've seen more than I have. All right; we'll give Bunny another chance at a goal from the field."
The talk between halves to the team was full of encouragement. "We're doing well," the coach told them; "mighty well. But we are going to do just a little better. We must score on that team, and we must hold it. Now in this business of field goals—"
To the unmixed delight of Rodman, Professor Leland made use of the very arguments which the substitute had brought up a minute before. "When they kick off to us this half, as they will, I want the ball rushed down the field to a point where we can try another drop for goal. Then, Payton, because we shall have changed goals, your eyes will be free of dust; Claxton will handle that tackle; Jones and Turner will take care of the combination at center, which will allow you, Magoon, to make the best pass of your life. We can do it all, I know."
As the boys stretched out to rest for the remainder of the period, Rodman's satisfaction was marred by only one thought. Although he had done his part to aid the team, neither Bunny nor the others knew anything about it. And it was their friendship and respect he wanted.
"Old Leland is the boy!" Roundy commented lazily to Bunny. "He saw what was wrong, and he fixed it up, too. He's the kind of coach to have."
"We all know that," Bunny responded fervently.
"Why, you can't kick into the sun and dust any more than you can fly; but I couldn't tell him so."
It was on the tip of Rodman's tongue to explain the origin of the suggestion. In spite of the impulse, however, he kept silent.
"All ready to save the day, Cree?" jeered Buck. "You'd be all right, at that, except that you'd probably stumble over the whitewash on the goal line and drop the ball."