"Yes. Go as slow as you want, old bantam."
"If we only could have had another minute, Tom—" He stopped, unable to go on, shaking his head.
"I know, I know."
"It was tough."
"Darned tough."
"I thought we were going to do it."
"Now, you shut up, young rooster. Don't think of it any more. You played like a fiend. We're proud of you."
"Poor Dana!"
Upstairs a couple of rubbers took charge of him, stripping him and rubbing him rigorously. Two or three coaches came up to him, gripping him with silent grips, patting him on the back. The cold bite of the shower brought back some of his vitality, and he dressed mechanically with the squad, who had nothing to say to one another.