“No!” said Phil in a low voice, and he crushed the telegram in his hand, and thrust the rustling paper inside his jacket.
The lad turned to go, anxious to get a place where he could view the game. None of Phil’s companions seemed to have noticed that he had received a message. He looked around at his chums.
“I—I’ve got to play the game,” he murmured.
The next instant the whistle blew.
“Line up!” came the cry, and Snail Looper, holding the new yellow ball, placed it on a little mound of earth ready for the kick-off.
[CHAPTER XXXIV]
THE GAME
With a mighty swing of his foot Snail Looper sent the ball well into Boxer territory. Lamson, their right half-back, caught it in his arms, and, with a good defense, began to rush back with it. Over the chalk-marks he came, but Tom Parsons was rushing toward him, and dodging through the intervening players he made a vicious tackle, bringing Lamson to the ground with a thud on Boxer’s thirty-eight-yard line. There was a quick line-up, and Stoddard, the full-back, made a good try to encircle Joe Jackson at right end. But the Jersey twin and his mates piled up on the mass of Boxer players with such good effect that hardly three yards were gained; and at this showing of the defense of Randall a punt was decided on.