It was approaching the date for the great game with Boxer Hall, and the football squad was practicing with a fierce energy; for, more than any other contest, they wanted to win that one.
The team was fairly “on edge and trained to the second,” as Holly Cross said. They had won the two games that came before the final one, and now but two weeks elapsed before they would clash with Boxer Hall on the Randall gridiron.
“Are you going to the Kappa Delta dance?” asked Phil of Tom one night, referring to an annual affair of one of the Greek letter fraternities.
“Sure,” replied Tom. “I think we need something like that to get us in shape for the game with Boxer Hall. You’re going, I suppose?”
“Of course. Who you going to take?”
“Haven’t quite made up my mind yet. Are you going with a dame?”
“Sure.”
“Who, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Madge Tyler,” answered Phil, and he seemed to be very busy arranging his tie.
“Madge Tyler?” repeated Tom quickly.