“Write it out and hand it to Holly Cross,” suggested Phil.
“Well, Phil,” remarked Tom to his chum on Saturday, about an hour before the big game, when the team was dressing in the Randall gymnasium, “do you feel as if we were going to win?”
“I certainly do,” spoke the quarter-back as he laced his canvas jacket. “I never felt in better shape. Only for one thing——” He paused suddenly, but Tom knew what he meant. It was the fear that, in the midst of the game, he might get bad news about his mother. Since receiving the telegram advising him to be ready to leave for Florida on short notice, Phil and his sister had had word that their mother had rallied somewhat, but that no permanent hope was held out for her recovery.
“Try not to think about it, old man,” advised Tom.
“I—I do try,” responded Phil. “But it—it’s hard work,” and he bent over to tie his shoe.
Out on the gridiron trotted the Randall players. They were received with a burst of cheers, led by Bean Perkins, whose voice was more than ever like a foghorn.
“Give ’em the ‘Conquer or Die’ song,” he called.
“No; wait until they need it,” suggested Sid Henderson, who was in the grandstand. “Let’s sing ‘We’re Going to Make a Touch-down Now!’ That’ll be better.”
The verses and chorus welled out from several hundred lusty throats, and the Randall team, which was at quick practice, looked up in appreciation.
“I wonder if any of the Fairview girls will be here,” said Tom as he and Phil were passing the ball back and forth.