Nobody was unduly elated over the showing of the Yardley team, although, as Tom Roeder pointed out that evening when they were talking it over in Dan’s room, they hadn’t done so badly considering everything. “Look at the heat, Dan! Thunder, I had a regular cascade running down my back all the time! Bet you I lost five pounds!”
“What did the scales say?” asked Arthur Thompson, who, a new recruit that fall, was after Roeder’s or Stearns’s position.
“Oh, they said a pound and four ounces,” replied Tom carelessly. “But they were probably mistaken!”
“Sandy Fogg played a dandy game at center,” said Gerald.
“Good on defense,” agreed Dan, “but he was mighty slow on getting into the attack.”
“He has too much fat on,” said Tom. “Or he did have before we began playing. I guess he’s some lighter now.”
“What the dickens was the matter with Wallace Hammel?” asked Arthur. Tom shrugged his shoulders.
“Search me. Both those goals were easy enough, and he had all the time he wanted. He’s feeling rather rotten about it to-night; peevish as you please; I simply had to get out of the room.”
“He will come around all right after awhile,” said Dan. “But I certainly wish we had two or three good drop-kickers.”
“Simms did pretty good work last year,” suggested Arthur.