“I think we showed up pretty well, for a team that had to be patched up after we lost two of our best players,” came from Sid.
“Well, you fellows didn’t play so awful,” conceded the quarter-back, “but if Sam had been in much longer there’d have been a different story. Pete Backus is making out all right, and his practice in jumping does him good. But Sam——”
“Simpson helped a lot,” said the end.
“Yes, better than I thought he would. He didn’t get gridiron-fright because he was on the ’varsity, and his head seems to be about the same size as before, barring where he got kicked over the eye,” went on Phil. “Understand, I’m not knocking the team!” he explained quickly, for he saw the girls looking at him rather oddly. “Only I know, and so does Kindlings and Lighton, that we’ve got to do heaps better when we play Fairview and Boxer Hall.”
“Oh, our boys are going to beat you!” exclaimed Miss Tyler, with a mischievous glance at her chums.
“Yes, you have to stick up for Fairview,” declared Phil, “but wait and see.” He spoke confidently, yet there was an uneasy feeling in his heart. Both Boxer and Fairview had stronger teams than ever before.
The little party walked on, laughing and chatting, discussing the game at intervals. Phil had a chance to speak to his sister away from the others for a moment, and took advantage of the opportunity, to ask:
“Langridge hasn’t been pestering you with any of his attentions lately, has he, Ruth?”
“Indeed he hasn’t!” she exclaimed vigorously. “And if he does, Phil, I hope you won’t do as you did before, and make the other girls and me ridiculous.”