The two were silent a moment studying not the slender, wiry figure, but the look in the eyes within.
"What are you out for?"
"End, sir."
"What do you weigh?"
"One hundred and fifty—about," said Dink.
A grim little twinkle appeared in the captain's eyes.
"About one hundred and thirty-five," he said, with a measuring glance.
"But I'm hard, hard as nails, sir," said Stover desperately.
"What football have you played?"
Stover remained silent.