[“Ever see a football before?” he asked.]
“Keep your eyes open, you fellow! You’re not running a boarding-house now; this is football!”
The allusion to the boarding-house caused other members of the squad to observe Jim curiously, but Jim kept his temper and his tongue. A minute afterwards the coach called them and the squad broke up. Jim walked over to the bench and picked up a blanket, but before he had wrapped it around his shoulders Johnny was after them.
“Over to the dummy now! And hurry up!”
About thirty panting youths gathered at the side of the newly spaded pit and one by one launched themselves at the swinging canvas dummy. Johnny himself operated the pully that sent the headless imitation of a man swinging across the soft loam.
“Pretty good, but tackle lower next time.”
“Perfectly rotten, Curtis. Try it again and get off your feet. That’s better but not good enough.”
“All right! Next man! Wrong side. Get in front of the runner always.”