Silently the Randall crowd left the grandstands, while the victorious cohorts of Fairview were singing their songs.
“Boys!” cried Bean Perkins, eagerly, “don’t let our fellows go off that way. Give ’em the ‘Conquer or Die’ song, but—sing it softly!”
And then, out over the big field, welled the beautiful strains of the Latin hymn. The effect was wonderful, for the boys were good singers. The great crowd halted and listened, as the last chords died softly away.
Then came a great cheer—a cheer from friend and opponent alike—a cheer for defeated Randall—for Randall that had not conquered, but had been conquered. Then the players filed to their dressing rooms.
[CHAPTER XXV]
BITTER DAYS
“Shall we look up the girls?” asked Phil softly, as he clasped his arm in that of Tom’s, and limped with him from the rooms under the grandstand. “They’ll want to see us.”
“But I don’t want to see them!” exclaimed the end, half fiercely. “I don’t want to see anybody. I want to go off in the dark somewhere, and——”
He stopped, for he felt a raging spirit within him that he knew was not good.