"By George, I can't stand that," said Stover, setting his teeth, the old love of combat sweeping over him. "I'm going to have a chance at that duck myself!"
He thrust his way forward, shaking off McCarthy's hold, stepped over the reclining front ranks, and, springing into the ring, faced Dana.
"I'm no wrestler, sir, but if there's no one else I'll have a try at it."
There was a sudden hush, and then a chorus:
"Who is it?"
"Who's that fellow?"
"What's his name?"
"Oh, freshmen, who's your candidate?"
"Stover!"
"Stover, a football man!"