They finished dressing, and went across the field to where a crowd of spectators was still congregated.
“Think you can find her in this bunch?” asked Tom, but he was taking no chances, for he himself was keeping a sharp lookout for a certain fair face.
“Oh, I guess so. If I don’t spot her she’ll glimpse me. Girls are great for finding people in a crowd. Sis always seems to do it.”
“Oh, Phil!” called a voice a moment later, and Ruth Clinton hurried up to her brother, gaily waving a Fairview flag. She was followed by Madge Tyler, who also had her college colors with her. “How’s your shoulder?” asked Ruth anxiously. “I was so nervous that I couldn’t bear to look at the plays.”
“Yes, you’ve got a lot of ruffians on your team,” retorted her brother. “They don’t know how to play like gentlemen.”
“But they know how to win!” exclaimed Madge, as she greeted her chum’s brother.
“That’s right,” admitted Phil, making a rueful face.
“I’m sorry I had to cheer against you and Mr. Parsons to-day,” went on Madge, as she looked at Phil. “I really—well, of course I can’t say I really wanted to you to win against Fairview, but I wish the score had been even.”
“There’s no satisfaction in that,” retorted Tom. “We lost, and they won, fairly and squarely.”
“Oh, I’m glad you admit that,” spoke Ruth with a laugh, and she waved her flag in Tom’s face. He made a grab for it, and caught the end of the cane. For an instant he stood thus, looking into the laughing, mischievous eyes of Ruth Clinton.